


Eight Drinks

by badporl, nedra



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, pearlmethyst - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 76,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badporl/pseuds/badporl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nedra/pseuds/nedra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Human AU. Pearl gets drunk at a bar after a long, horrible work shift and ends up meeting a drummer that she absolutely does not find attractive, what-so-ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. honey and the moon

**Author's Note:**

> Eight Drinks is a fanwork intended for mature audiences only. If you are triggered by sex, drug abuse, violence, homosexuality, or pearlmethyst, you should probably hit the back button on your browser.
> 
> Quality checks performed by Badporl. If you find inconsistencies or errors, please message her. I do not edit my own works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music for this chapter:
> 
> [One (Your Name).](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CNpQu45QTsw)  
> [Honey and the Moon.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EmaY6nhD7xw)

She'd finally cracked. Work was awful today. One-too-many disgruntled customers misdirecting their rage onto Pearl, when she literally has no control over anything that goes on in the store. She's just a cashier. Honestly, if anyone ever wants to see the worst in humanity, consider a job in retail. After her shift ended at 10:00 PM, she decided to duck into a bar on the way home; which is extremely unlike her, but given how terrible the day went, she decided that a _few_ drinks were necessary in order to undo the harsh throbbing now hijacking her frontal lobe. 

The evening venue on Mondays are small, so she doesn't have to fight a crowd when she locates a solitary booth near the window, dusting off the table top with a napkin before getting comfortable. Another nice thing about bars are how dimly-lit they typically are; it's a nice transition considering she'd spent almost 10 hours under the shoddy fluorescent lights in the dollar store. Nursing a vodka and tonic, she slackens into the ripped up leather seat, sighing heavily and thinking of her early morning classes. 

The band playing draws her attention; a smooth, brusque voice fills the room. It doesn't sound bad, but it's not exactly in her taste as far as music goes. Looking to the stage, she's acquainted with the sight of a short, darker skinned girl, hammering away on an drums, with another, much taller woman on the guitar. A two-woman band? How odd. 

_I wanna know your name_  
_You just kill me, could you at least do that?_  
_I wanna know your name_  
_Or better yet, stand there_  
_Just do that_

Small crowd; four people seated in the audience, six people seated at the bar, and four more huddled in a booth far from Pearl. It comes to her attention that she's the only one that's seated alone-- which does little to bother her; she's not feeling very sociable, anyways; she rarely is these days.

For a moment she makes eye contact with the drummer, holding it for an abnormally long time. She grins at Pearl between verses, forcing her to look down at her drink in embarrassment. The singer is, admittedly, not that bad looking but definitely not her type. That messy, scraggly mane of dark hair with purple streaks...those piercings, those torn jeans and that ridiculous plaid shirt covering a stained gray wife-beater...and those gold chains around her neck can't possibly be real gold. Who is she trying to impress with such a...sloppy appearance?

One glass turns into three. And three turns into seven. 

Pearl, at some point between drink four and five, relocated to a table closer to the band; not because she wanted to have a better look at the drummer, definitely not; it was because of the vent beneath her table that was blowing unreasonably cold air, and her cheap work khakis do little to keep her warm.

The increasingly attractive drummer has switched instruments, mixing things up and taking the lead on the guitar for a few lazy solos. The other woman has wandered off to the bar to get a drink. They must be winding down for the night; since it's almost 1:00 AM. Three people are left at the bar, and a quiet couple occupies one of the booths; the female of the couple beginning to nod off. 

Her tired eyes come to rest on the drummer...or...now-guitarist... doesn't she find it depressing that no one is really here to listen except for like, five people?

It suddenly floods her consciousness that she's staring right at Pearl, with an admittedly annoying visage of amusement. What's so funny? Does Pearl have something on her face?

The lyrics to whatever song this is slow and depressing. Is it acceptable to throw her empty glass at the singer if she disagrees with the song? It has to be a cover, since she swears it sounds familiar. Like something she might have heard in one of the many teen dramas her and Rose watched together when they were in highschool. 

_But right now_  
_everything is turning blue,_  
_and right now_  
_the sun is trying to kill the moon,_  
_and right now_  
_I wish I could follow you_

Squinting, the slender girl struggles to get up from her chair, feeling the full effects of the eighth vodka-tonic. Her legs feel like silly putty and her vision is less than stable. Bathroom. She'll make a point to check if there is, in fact, something on her face that she's not aware of. The drummer/guitarist... lady...watches as Pearl stumbles to the washroom; an amused grin still hanging on her plump lips.

In the awful lighting of the bathroom, its hard for Pearl to discern if there's anything wrong with her face; that and the the mirror is so incredibly filthy. She sighs; why does she even give a damn? She'll never see any of these people again. What does it matter what she looks like? She should just pay her tab and get home already. She splashes some cold water onto her face before exiting the bathroom; can't be bothered with drying off. Too drunk to care.

She notices upon entering the main room that the couple in the booth has left, as well as one of the bar people. Two men practically falling asleep in their beers are all who's left, customer-wise. The bartender is preoccupied, flipping through their phone with a lifeless expression that Pearl relates to on a spiritual level. The stage at the front of the bar is dark now. The taller lady is packing up sound equipment, and after a while of searching, she locates the drummer. ...Which, to Pearl's irritation, has taken Pearl's seat at the table she was once sitting at.

Grumbling under her alcoholic breath, Pearl works herself back over, only bumping into two chairs on the way; no doubt a victory in and of itself. The drummer looks up to her, holding Pearl's unfinished vodka-tonic and smiling innocently.

“Yo.” She greets lazily. “Haven't seen you round here before.”

Pearl narrows her eyes, looking to her purse which is hanging on the back of the seat the drummer occupies. 

“...I don't normally frequent...bars.” She explains, hiccuping between her words. She can hardly stand, so without betraying her frigid exterior, she takes a seat opposite of the other, fumbling around to cross her legs with a bit too much effort.

“Obviously.” She smirks, taking a sip of Pearl's drink. 

Agitated by this behavior, Pearl scowls. “Can I help you?” She asks with a less than hospitable tone.

“No, not really.” She cackles. “But I think I can help you.”

“...I don't follow.” Pearl admits, leaning back into her chair and folding her arms. Is... is this stranger about to offer Pearl some street drugs? Meth? Something illegal?

“Did you drive here?” The drummers asks, inviting herself to another sip of vodka. 

What is up with this girl? Pearl creases her lips, observing the other with a boiling hostility. She just wants to go home. “What's it to you?”

The girl gives Pearl a slow once-over, smiling all the way. “To me? Nothing. I just don't think you're in any shape to be driving.”

Pearl scoffs. “Thanks for the concern, but I think I'll be j-just fhhuuu--” And without warning, she gets sick, spilling onto the floor under the table and losing what must be at least four of her vodka-tonics. The last sound she has the displeasure of hearing is that of the drummer's scrappy laughter before she blacks out.


	2. amethyst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight Drinks is a fanwork intended for mature audiences only. If you are triggered by sex, drug abuse, violence, homosexuality, or pearlmethyst, you should probably hit the back button on your browser.
> 
> Quality checks performed by Badporl. If you find inconsistencies or errors, please message her. I do not edit my own works.

Throbbing. No...more like banging. It feels like a tiny person is in her head, swinging around a baseball bat. Her eyes feel like they're going to fall out. And her throat is sore. Something wet is draped over the back of her neck. Lying on her stomach, Pearl stirs, groaning under sore muscles. Was she hit by an 18-wheeler? Certainly feels as such. 

That smell...it smells like...pine needles? And this bed...it isn't hers, it's much too comfortable to be her cheap, stiff dorm bed. Opening her eyes slowly, her vision swims, fading in and out; blurry, running like a watercolor painting. The room is dim; dark curtains are drawn over the only window in the room, and two candles are lit on top of a dark-oak dresser-- and that's about all she can see for now.

Lethargic and potent, Pearl manages to flip over and sit up. Bringing a hand up to her head, she rubs her temple, trying to quell her raging hangover. It is then that she notices her clothes-- they aren't her work uniform like she was wearing last night, it's an awful, over-sized plaid button-up shirt. And then it clicks-- this gaudy shirt, she remembers who was wearing it. It belonged to that rude, cocky drummer from the bar. Panic sets in. Why is she here? Why is she in someone else's clothes? OH GOD did she have a one-night stand with some grunge-ball rock-star wanna-be?! B-but she's never had sex before! Did she waste her first time on a complete stranger?!

“Oh, hey you're up.” A voice comes from her right. Pearl glances down to see the drummer from last night, lying in bed next to her.

Instinctively, Pearl screams. Loud. “aaaAAAAHHHHH!!!!” Shuffling away from the stranger and consequently falling off the bed onto a hardwood floor, landing right on her tailbone.

The scrappy woman covers her ears, watching as Pearl makes a complete fool of herself. “WHAT THE FUCK?! KEEP IT DOWN! The lady below me gets really fucking annoying if I make too much noise!” She explains, cringing as the neurotic woman hits the floor.

Getting a better look at herself, Pearl sees that the stupid plaid shirt is literally ALL she's wearing, save for her underwear. Her face heats up, embarrassed and confused. Clawing at the bed to get back up, Pearl fights the pain, bringing herself forward and peering at the strange woman with a disoriented glare. 

“What am I doing here?!” She questions erratically, piercing her ears with her own shrill voice. Everything is way too loud.

With a boisterous laugh, she looks to Pearl, utterly amused. “Uh, you fuckin' upchucked all over the floor last night at the bar, oh and then you did it again in my truck,-- aaaaall over yourself.”

With a throaty groan, Pearl overs her face, further embarrassed. “Oh no...”

“Oh yes.” The woman replies. “And then, you went into this...bizarre...episode about how disgusting it is, and that you needed to change, so you started getting undressed like, right in the damn passenger seat. AT A STOP LIGHT. So the guys in the lane next to us were super happy about that. Way to go.”

“Oh god...” Pearl whines. Then another revelation-- she's missing class. 

“The name is Amethyst, but I'll accept that name, too.” She sighs, pleasantly entertained by her guest.

“Wh...what am I doing in YOUR ugly shirt?” Pearl asks, dreading the answer.

“Uh, YOU threw your nasty barf-clothes out the window of the truck and I didn't exactly feel like stopping to go get them off the side of the road, so I wrapped you in that-- and it's NOT ugly.” She argues, pointing at Pearl with pursed lips. 

“There is NO way I would get undressed in front of...you, or anyone. Did...did you pull anything funny?!”

“...Pull anything? You mean did we have sex?" She asks, looking almost too comfortable. "Absolutely. It was MIND-BLOWING. Best sex I ever had.” She explains with splayed arms. “You're pretty kinky for a white girl.”

Pearl screams again, in horror. 

“WOAH WOAH, NO! I was kidding! Would you please stop screaming!? Seriously!” Amethyst says abashedly. “Like legit, all that happened was you fell asleep in the truck so I just...carried you up here. Nothing 'funny' happened." She explains, adding air-quotes with her hands. "Unless you count your weird rambling about how 'fluffy' I am? Is that a good thing?”

Pearl squints to Amethyst, overcome by her banging hangover. She lays her head down on the edge of the bed, trying to mask her unease. 

“Where's my car...?” She asks, muffled by the bedsheets. 

“Uh, Garnet has it right now, I can take you to go get it later. Not right now, though, a friend of mine is borrowing the truck for the afternoon. ”

“...Garnet?” 

“Yeah, the tall lady in my band.”

“I see...”

“Uh...yeah. Soooo...do you like...want anything? Like...uh, I have coffee and stuff.” 

Pearl glances up, eyes lidded and heavy with discomfort. She runs a hand through her messy hair, contemplating whether she should really stay here much longer. But coffee sounds...really good. So does like 6 ibuprofen...and some pants. 

Amethyst grins knowingly, getting up off the bed and leaving the room. “Brb.”

When the stranger leaves, Pearl gets back up on the bed, sitting precariously on the edge and observing the room with a mindless curiosity. The candles are pine scented, which explains the smell. The room is...not exactly messy, but it is unorganized. A desk on the other side of the room holds two laptops, a printer and a vintage-looking green lamp. A bookshelf next to it holds what appears to be a lot of books having to do with music as well as an obscene amount of comic books. Posters litter the wall, mostly obscure band names, like Sea Pinks, The Smiths, Ron Sexsmith, The Vaccines, Dead Kennedys... Christmas lights are strung around the room; currently not lit. The curtains are a dark burgundy, and the walls are black. Whoever designed this room is clearly opposed to having any kind of natural lighting in here...

A guitar is leaned against the closet door, with a few bits of technical equipment surrounding it. There's a stack of several small boxes in the corner holding what appears to be vinyl records, and next to that, a record player that sits on top of an overturned laundry basket. Who in this day and age still owns one of those? Pearl will admit, the room has an...eccentric feel to it. 

She shivers, it's also very cold in this room; and not wearing pants only makes it worse. Hearing footsteps coming back to the room, Pearl anxiously pulls the over-sized shirt over her thighs; which does nothing to ease the feeling of exposure.

“I'm assuming you take your coffee black. That, and I'm out of creamer.” She grumbles, offering Pearl a mug of dark liquid. The mug is red with bold white letters that spell 'FUCK'. 

How charming. 

She accepts the drink, holding it in her lap and muttering a 'thank you'.

“Oh, and here.” Amethyst jolts, having almost forgot. She pulls some pills from her pocket, which Pearl looks at suspiciously.

“Oh chill out, Pearl, it's aspirin, not X.”

She narrows, looking to the capsules and then to the short woman offering them. Wait, Pearl?

“How do you know my name?” Pearl asks sleepily, cautiously taking the medication in her hands. The other woman takes a seat next to her on the bed.

Amethyst sighs, another sarcastic smile. “Well Garnet and I were originally just going to take you home, so we looked through your stuff for your drivers license to get your address, but you live like...three hours away so I said 'fuck that' and took you here instead. But also you kept re-introducing yourself to me last night in the truck like every 10 minutes. You're really goofy when you're wasted.”

“Mmm...” Pearl hums, sipping her coffee. It's extremely bitter, but somehow she doesn't mind it. “That's my parents address, I currently live on campus, actually.”

“Haha...you're in college?” Amethyst asks, clearly facetious. “Cute. What are ya' studying, nerd?”

Pearl glowers, frowning hard. “Astrophysics major, with a minor in Performing Arts.”

“Sounds expensive.” 

“It would be...but I've received a lot of scholarships. I think I should only graduate with about $3K debt if I'm careful.” 

“Only?!” Amethyst cackles. “Ahhh..good luck with that.”

It gets quiet, uncomfortably so. Pearl works on her coffee, crossing her legs to battle the exposure of her thighs. Occasionally, she would glance to the shorter woman, who seems engrossed by her phone, but sometimes Pearl would catch Amethyst's eyes wandering to her legs. She really really needs clothes. Now. But unfortunately her only clothes are now somewhere on the side of the highway, thanks to her drunk self. 

This is all so...unlike her, and she's unbelievably mortified that a complete stranger had to take care of her.

This...Amethyst girl didn't have to help Pearl; but she did anyways, even though Pearl hadn't been very nice last night. She supposes she'll have to...thank her.

“Uhm...I...I believe I owe you a--”

“Nah, don't mention it.” The shorter woman cuts in. “I couldn't possibly leave a cute lil' thang like you to drive when you were so shit-faced.” She smiles, putting her phone down to give Pearl her full attention. “Oh, and I paid your bill last night, too. Do you always drink that much?”

“Y-you didn't have to do that!” Pearl responds, flustered. The tab had to have been at least $50. “I will reimburse you for the--”

“Oh just relax... You can repay me another time.” 

“I ca--” Pearl begins, but is cut off again, this time by Amethyst's phone going off. She apologizes quickly, answering it. 

The conversation, even if Pearl were interested in eavesdropping, is mostly in Spanish. So Amethyst is bilingual, though from the color of her skin she has to guess that English is a secondary language. Or is that too presumptuous? Anyways, Amethyst seems to be having a pleasant conversation, cackling a few times and flowing in and out between Spanish and English. It's kind of entertaining.

The conversation is short, and soon the call ends. 

“My friend won't be finished using the truck until about 8-9 PM. I hope you don't have anywhere important to be today.” She explains, pocketing her phone and laying back into the bed. Pearl thinks of the two classes she'll be missing today; somehow she's not that worried about it. She is, however, worried about how Rose will react to her absence.

“I'm uh... I'm fine.” She says, still distracted by her lack of pants. “Do you...have anything I could wear?” She asks sheepishly, a slight blush creeping onto her face.

Amethyst laughs modestly. “I don't think I have anything that would fit you, you're practically a stick figure...oh, wait, no, hold on.” She jolts, getting up off the bed and over to her closet to rummage around. 

Pearl looks away, observing more posters on the wall. One of them standing out more than others; a well-known drawing of Lucifer's descent from Heaven. She wonders if it holds any significance to Amethyst. Probably not. Most likely it's just aesthetic.

“Haha, I knew I still had these.” Amethyst announces, throwing a pair of leggings at Pearl without warning. They're sized XS, making Pearl wonder if they belong to Amethyst...or to her girlfriend possibly? She sets her coffee down on the trunk at the foot of the bed, standing up to try them on. But she stops, realizing that Amethyst is watching. 

“Uhm...” Pearl protracts awkwardly. Amethyst jumps, realizing the need for privacy and hopping onto the computer to act distracted. 

“You know, I saw much more last night.” She laughs, opening up a game of solitaire. Pearl flushes harder, slipping on the leggings which fit almost perfectly; though since she's so tall, the leggings pull up to her calves when they're all the way on. She looks to the side, finding a full-length mirror next to the dresser. The shirt is so baggy on her, but she won't deny that its warm... which leads her to her next question; where is her bra? She looks around the floor, wondering if maybe she removed it in her sleep.

“Did I...throw...anything else out the window, aside from my work clothes...?” She asks carefully, hoping Amethyst will get the hint.

“Oh, your bra?” She asks bluntly, spinning around in her chair. “Uhh..hmm...is that it?” She asks, pointing to under the bed. 

A black bra is just barely poking out. Pearl quickly snatches it up, further embarrassed. 

“Yeah, you were uh...really out of it last night and you kept complaining about how tight it was and like...” She stops, laughing as she recalls the fiasco. “I don't know, you were like...fucked up, man. You couldn't get it off so you started crying and saying it'll never come off and that it'll grow into your skin, so uh...I helped a little.” 

Pearl becomes mortified.

“BUT I didn't like, SEE anything... I did it from behind, calm down. I'm not a...weirdo or anything.” She says quickly, turning back to her game of solitaire so Pearl can have privacy. 

When her bra is back on, Pearl reclaims her coffee, taking the aspirin with it. 

“Where is this place?” She asks, not trusting her hangover enough to glance out the window and exposing herself to any kind of bright lights. 

“Uhh, I would say South Side, but like...it's a bit outside of that? I dunno, it's a weird suburb. We're probably about an hour from the college.” 

“Do you have...roommates or, do you live with your...partner?” She asks, subtly trying to collect information about this stranger. 

“Nope.” She responds, popping the letter 'p' as she does. “Roommates are annoying; and I probably couldn't get a girlfriend even if I tried.” She admits with tickled laughter. “Though, I do have a cat. Somewhere. Her name is Cunt Destroyerrrrrrr.” She explains with a flare. 

Pearl chokes on her coffee, sending her into a small coughing fit.

“I just call her Cunty, mostly, though.” Amethyst continues, ignoring Pearl's distress. “What about you? You got roommates at _college_?”

After Pearl has managed to fight off her coughs, she shakes her head. “Well, I DID have a roommate, but she dropped out, so it's just me. Thank god...”

“Ooooh, was she a bitch?”

“Hm? Oh, no. she was just...really obnoxious. She always had strange men in our dorm, I couldn't get any sleep because she always had them over at weird hours. I think she got pregnant or something. I also think she had a habit of going through my things whenever I was gone. Good riddance.”

“Hmm.” Amethyst grins. "So then...Puuuuurly. What do you like to do for fun?”

“...fff-Fun?” Pearl asks, as if it were a foreign concept to her. “I..guess I like reading...and puzzles.”

“Oh geez...forreal?” Amethyst drones. 

“...Yeus...?” Pearl responds, confused.

“Well, I don't have much for you to read around here unless you're into comics-- which I seriously doubt. And only old grandmas have puzzles lying around. I got Netflix, though. Wanna watch a movie?”

The Netflix and Chill meme invades Pearl's thoughts for moment, and she becomes nervous, wondering if she really means 'watching a movie', but decides that if she'd wanted to do anything lewd, she would have done it by now. By all accounts, Amethyst has been kind to her.

“Um...sure. But...may I use your shower, first?” She asks shyly, scratching the back of her head. Amethyst gets that amused look on her face again. 

“What, the one we had together last night wasn't good enough for you?”

“excUSE ME?!” Pearl yells, immediately getting flustered, almost dropping her coffee mug.

“Oh my god, Pearl, I'm just kidding!” She laughs, leaning back in her chair. “First door on your left when you leave the room.” She explains, rolling her eyes.


	3. impulse control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> netflix and chill more like banned film and spill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight Drinks is a fanwork intended for mature audiences only. If you are triggered by sex, drug abuse, violence, homosexuality, or pearlmethyst, you should probably hit the back button on your browser.
> 
> Quality checks performed by Badporl. If you find inconsistencies or errors, please message her. I do not edit my own works.
> 
> \---
> 
> Songs for this chapter:
> 
> [A Lack of Color. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cwwee0obFWo) The song Amethyst was experimenting with while Pearl was in the shower.  
> [Crazy For You.](https://soundcloud.com/wichita-recordings/3-crazy-for-you) The song Pearl eavesdropped on after the shower.  
> [ Balcan Sex God. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cfiMgcHeaCE) Opening theme for the film they watch. Please see end notes on this.

The inside of Amethyst's shower is extremely frustrating and confusing; and Pearl's hangover shows no sign of letting up, so when she turns the wrong knob and is greeted with ice cold water, she reacts with a shrill screech. 

Amethyst can be heard laughing in the hallway. 

“Other knob, doofus.” She calls. Pearl grumbles shivering under the cold stream and glaring at the door.

Finally, she gets some warm water to flow, and for a while just allows it to cascade down her body, soothing her aching muscles. As per her curious nature, she then begins examining everything in the shower. There must be like...nine bottles of body wash alone on the floor of the tub. Several loofas lay on the shower caddy, along with unused bars of soap. 

Then she sees something else, kind of hidden behind a wash rag. Just barely pushing the rag away, she is met with the quick realization that it's...a sex toy of some kind, to which Pearl gasps at, shoving the rag back on top of it. She supposes that it shouldn't be a surprise; since Amethyst lives alone, she is free to...leave whatever she wants in the shower. She feels guilty having nosed around too much.

Anyways...There's only one shampoo bottle; which Pearl is disheartened by since she was hoping to have a selection to choose from. 

She grabs the bottle, observing the label. 'Cedarwood'. What the hell kind of scent is that??? She flips the cap up, timidly sniffing at it. It's...musky, but sweet at the same time. Odd. Like the first smell of spring after a long winter. She applies a generous amount to her hair, working it into a lather and rinsing it; she assumes Amethyst wouldn't mind.

At random she chooses a body wash, which turns out to be cucumber scented, and awkwardly rubs it over her skin, not quite daring enough to use one of Amethyst's loofas. 

The faint sound of an acoustic guitar can be heard; Amethyst must be strumming away, the melody sounds experimental and random; soothing, nonetheless-- in comparison to the stuff she was playing in the bar last night. 

Getting out the shower presents Pearl with yet another problem. She can't seem to find towels. She whines a little, walking up to the door and calling for Amethyst, hoping that she'll hear her over the guitar. 

The music stops. And there are slow footsteps up to the other side of the door. 

“Did you say something?”

“Um. Yes.” Pearl trifles. “I uh...I can't find the towels.”

“Oh shit, right. Yeah, sorry, I keep them in a closet in the hallway. Hold on, I'll go get one.”

Who stores towels outside the bathroom? What kind of backwards place is this?

There's silence on the other side, but just for a moment. Amethyst returns, knocking once on the door. Pearl swallows, opening the door just a crack. Nothing happens, so she pushes it open a bit further, greeted by the shorter girl; one arm covering her eyes and a towel draped over the other. For a moment, Pearl forgets what she's doing and just stares down at Amethyst, kind of observing her, now that they're in better lighting that isn't a dim bar or a dark bedroom. Her hair is...a soft-looking brunette, with faded purple streaks. The nose piercing is a bit off-putting. She's certainly...well-endowed in the chest area. A bra strap lays slacked down her arm underneath her tank top; which Pearl immediately wants to correct, but doesn't. Her jeans are so tattered it's a miracle that they're even staying together. Her socks are mis-matched, one purple and one blue. 

“Yo, are you gonna take the towel or what?” Amethyst asks, sounding a bit flustered. Pearl snaps back to attention, accepting the towel and covering herself with it. 

“Do you...have a hair-dryer, as well?” Pearl asks, feeling less self-conscious now that she's covered. 

The shorter one uncovers her eyes, but fixes her gaze to the side. “Uhh, yep. It's under the sink. Just uh...use whatever you want, I don't mind.” She explains, somewhat rushed. 

“Thank you.” Pearl says simply, still not doing anything to move from her spot. Amethyst bites her lip, mumbling something incoherent before walking back to her room. Closing the door, Pearl goes about her business, trying to make herself look at least somewhat presentable. 

 

Coming out from the bathroom, Pearl admittedly feels much better, though still has a small headache. 

The guitar is still playing, and for whatever reason, she decides to tiptoe towards Amethyst's room, curious to see what she's like when no ones watching. From the doorway, she peers in, seeing Amethyst seated on the chest at the end of the bed, thumbing along the guitar methodically, kind of fading in and out between singing actual lyrics and humming the rest.

I can't do anything without you  
Can't do anything with you  
Drive me crazy, but I love you  
Make me lazy, but I love you  
Want to hit you, but then I kiss you,  
Want to kill you, but then I miss you  
Drive me crazy, but I love you  
You make me lazy, but I love you

The rest of the song she just kind of lazily hums to, tapping her foot in tempo against the floor. It's nice, Pearl decides, pushing the door all the way open and inviting herself in. Amethyst chokes up on the chords, stopping the music. 

“Sup gurl. You feeling any less shitty?” She asks, grinning.

Pearl nods, moving over to grab her coffee, which is now lukewarm. 

“You know you can warm that up, right?” She asks, setting the guitar on the bed.

“I'm fine.” She says plainly. “You don't have to quit playing on my account.” 

“Huh? Oh, nah, I was just doing it because I was bored. You ready to netflix and chill?”

Internally, Pearl is less than enthused about spending her afternoon watching movies with a stranger when she should be studying...but given the circumstances she practically has no choice. “Sure.”

As they travel down the short hallway she notices a few pictures on the walls; all of skulls and skeletons. Were it Halloween it might make sense, but it's March. 

“Did you write that song? From earlier?” Pearl asks, trying to strike up conversation as they occupy the blood-red loveseat. The living room is small, but cozy. Amethyst has several gaming consoles stacked in the entertainment center, which is not surprising at all. A shelf next to the television has what seems to be close to a hundred games and movies. 

“Huh? Oh. No. That's just a song I like. Though I guess I am working on a few original ones. I'm just too damn lazy to finish any of them, haha.” She explains, turning on the xbox and selecting Netflix. She kicks her legs up on the small coffee table, crossing her ankles and getting comfortable. The room is dark; blinds closed and curtains drawn shut.

“Why is it so dark in here?” Pearl asks, hoping that this isn't some kind of set-up for the 'chill' in netflix and chill. 

“I dunno'. Whenever I have a hangover I can't stand bright lights so I figured you'd be the same? Do you want me to open them?” She asks, genuine innocence in her voice. This makes Pearl feel much better; not to mention, flattered.

“No, it's fine. You're right, I am a bit...sensitive, right now.” 

“Okay, cool. I like it when it's dark anyways. So what kind of movies do you watch?” 

Pearl thinks for a moment. She's not quiet sure, actually. She rarely ever has time for anything like that. So instead of answering the question, she responds with another question.

“Well...what kind do you like?”

“Eh...I dunno. I mean. I guess I like horror, but lately I've been on a banned film kick.” 

Pearl raises a brow. “...band movies? Like...musicals?”

“No... BANNED...movies. Like...you know, restricted?? Illegal?? Limited?? Controversial?”

“OH. Oh...okay. Uhm...what is that, exactly?”

Amethyst shrugs. “Stuff that's too...I dunno', gruesome or offensive for theatrical release? But I won't make you watch any of that, I doubt you'd be able to make it through. We could watch a...documentary or something. You seem like a huge nerd who's into that kinda stuff.”

Pearl sours a little, scoffing at the term 'nerd'. “I'm pretty sure I can handle this 'banned' film of yours. It's all fake, anyways.”

Amethyst's grin widens, looking almost vulturous. “Really, now? You won't get queasy and upchuck all over me?”

“I'm well over the puke-factor.” Pearl states as-a-matter-of-factly. “I can handle anything that you can.” she adds, crossing her arms. Where is this attitude coming from? She has no idea why she's acting this way all of the sudden. It's not like this is a competition, they're just watching a damn movie.

“Kayyyyyy, well then. We would have to watch it on my laptop, Netflix doesn't have anything like that.” She explains, starting to get up.

“Oh, no, you don't have to go through all that trouble.” Pearl jolts, looking up at her...host. She doesn't want to be too demanding, not that she was demanding a banned film in the first place.

“Oh? What is this? Are you wimping out on me?” She smiles, displaying some impressively sharp canine teeth. Pearl almost loses her train of thought. 

“I am NOT wimping out. I just don't want you to have to get up when you already turned Netflix on.”

Amethyst goes blank, reaching for her phone and thumbing around on the screen for a few minutes-- Pearl finds this rude; who stops mid-conversation to check text messages? Within a few seconds though, Amethyst is grinning again, and her phone starts making chicken noises. She looks to Pearl with a baiting expression. “Sounds to me like you're scared.” 

“Oh, just go get your laptop.” Pearl hisses, grabbing a pillow from the couch and tossing it at the other; it misses, and Amethyst leaves the room, cackling while the phone still plays obnoxious clucking. 

Now left alone, Pearl looks around some more, taking note of several beer bottles collected on the table to her left-- empty, of course. She grabs one, reading the label out of curiosity. It was a Smirnoff Screwdriver. She brings the bottle up to her nose, sensing a citrus-like aroma. Is it too early to drink? She's surprised she even wants a drink, given how horribly that went last night. 

Amethyst returns shortly, laptop and charger in hand. 

“Yo, you want one? I have a ton more in the fridge.” She notes, setting down the stuff on the coffee table. 

Pearl, before even thinking about it, says 'yes'. She glances around for a clock, wondering if it's late enough in the day. A digital clock near the TV reads 3:47. Eh... not too early.

Looking to the laptop on the table, she invites herself to open it, hoping that acting self-assertive will somehow get a rise out of Amethyst-- wait, why does she want that? 

The laptop is already on and logged-in, with the browser open. And holy shit there's dozens of tabs open. She absolute detests this; how can anyone have any more than 3-4 tabs open at once? It's ludicrous. Reading the bookmarks, most of them are lyric sites for specific songs, others are mundane things like Facebook, Pinterest and Tumblr. But then there are three that are...obviously of a more mature nature. Porn Bible? 21Sexture? PornRabbit? Her face heats up, immediately regretting her brash act of prying. 

“Promise me you won't drink yourself under the table this time.” Amethyst sighs, plopping down next to Pearl and offering her a Screwdriver. She appears completely unfazed by Pearl holding the laptop. 

Pearl accepts the drink, handing the laptop over to its owner. 

“Not likely. What is this? 5% alcohol?” She laughs, placing the bottle between her legs and leaning back into the couch. 

“Uh, excuse you, it's five POINT eight PER-CENT.” Amethyst jests, smirking and opening up yet ANOTHER freaking tab in chrome. Pearl laughs a little before she can stop herself, and scoots closer to see the screen better. Their shoulders touch, and Amethyst can immediately feel herself heating up. 

“Alright then, Miss 'I Ain't Scared of no thang', what kind of banned film shall we watch? Gore? Shock? Contra?”

Pearl, not wanting to be left with making decisions, shrugs and takes a sip of her drink. “You choose.”

“Are you sure you want me to do that?” She teases. 

Pearl looks to Amethyst, reading the playful expression on her face-- also noticing that they are just inches apart. Somehow this doesn't bother her as much as she would think. In fact, something in Amethyst's tone baits Pearl to play along. 

“I can take whatever you got.” Pearl murmurs, not breaking eye contact. Amethyst swallows dryly, biting her lip. 

“Tch, whatevs.” She says finally, turning back to the screen, flustered beneath her bangs. “How about A Horrible Film, then?”

Somewhat disappointed that there was no playful come-back Pearl huffs a little. “A Horrible Film? Like...is that the title? Or are horrible films its own genre?”

“No, it's the title.” She explains, grinning at the innocence of her guest and taking a swig of her own drink; she's much more...aggressive with how she drinks. Pearl observes, almost as if in slow motion, watching Amethyst's thick lips curl over the tip of the bottle, taking three swills before stopping. Her throat quivers in response, swallowing the elixir like medicine. Pearl is admittedly...enticed, somehow. 

She shakes her head, backing away and finding her own behavior to be more and more odd as time wears on. 

“Fine then, let's watch that.” 

“Really? I didn't give you any other options. You really wanna just dive right into the first thing I suggest? This movie is pretty gnarly, Pearl. There's like, a ton of sex and a lot of gore.”

“Just play the movie.” She says flatly while rolling her eyes. Slackening into the couch, she takes another sip. On the inside, she wonders if she isn't being too bashful-- she doesn't typically take to watching anything sexual; especially with someone she's literally only known for a few hours, but she can't back out now-- not when Amethyst has made it a point to prove that Pearl is a wimp.

Amethyst shrugs, smiling at her. “Don't say I didn't warn ya.” She leans into the couch, getting comfortable. They both hike their legs up onto the coffee table, but remaining at a..modest distance of about two inches. The laptop stays in Amethyst's lap, angled slightly so that Pearl can see better. 

As the cursor hovers over the play button, Pearl suddenly speaks up.

“Okay okay okay... wait... just... give me like... an idea... like, what's the film about...?” She asks, an abrupt feeling of nervousness pitting in her stomach. Much to her chagrin, Amethyst's smirk returns.

“Ugh... like, how detailed do I have to be?”

“Hmm...” Pearl considers, rubbing her chin. “Twenty words or less?”

“Oh jeez...uh...” She laughs, finding the request to be challenging. “Okay, let me...lemme think here.” 

Pearl watches the video buffer, loading as Amethyst forms a summary in her mind. Another swig of her drink, and Pearl relaxes further, shoulder reconnecting with Amethyst's. This is okay, right? This isn't anything...weird? People watch movies together all the time. And there's no point in being shy at this point, right?

“OKAY. So...twenty...words...or less. Hmm...” Amethyst drawls. “A guy... has to... come out of retirement to film a porno.” She explains, counting her words on her fingers. “And shit gets really fucked up, basically.”

“...That literally explains nothing.” Pearl deadpans. 

“Yeah it does. I swear. That's literally all it is...in twenty words or less.” She coughs, choking on some of her Screwdriver. "Otherwise I'd be giving it away. 

“Ugh...okay... press play, then.” Pearl relents, mimicking Amethyst and taking a large gulp of her drink. 

With a click, the movie starts rolling. Opening title seems pleasant, with soft music playing, but abruptly cuts to heavy, menacing music. The title of the film displays 'Страшно film'.

“You didn't say this was a foreign film.” Pearl observes out loud. Amethyst shrugs slightly. 

“What, you can't read subtitles?” She jokes, nudging her guest playfully. Pearl grunts.

“I can read just fine.”

“Humm... Lets make this a bit more interesting.” The darker-skinned female rouses. 

“...How much more interesting can this get?” Pearl asks, curious and nervous at the same time.

“Well...since I'm PRETTY sure you're just gonna wimp out, I wanna make sure I get something out of it.” 

“...Such as...?” 

“If you chicken out before the end...” Amethyst starts, drumming her fingers over the bottle in her hand. Pearl holds her breath, wondering if her request will be something...lewd. “Thennnn... you gotta buy dinner.”

“Seriously? That's all you got?” Pearl challenges, squinting in disbelief at how uncreative the musician is when it comes to bets. 

“Quit your whining. Do we got a bet?” 

“I'm not whining! And what do I get if I-- oh...” Pearl stops mid sentence, the movie immediately starts off with an alleyway scene; and a...what Pearl describes as, a harlot, stumbling out of a building, with a gentleman following her. Almost instantly, the man pins the woman to the wall, tearing her clothes off and... yep. This is a flat out porno. Pearl sits up quickly. 

“You said this was a movie, not a... pornographic film...” She grimaces, hating the word 'pornographic'.

“Nonono, this is just like...the opening scene, it's showing the main character while he was filming pornos. It's like...a flashback sorta dealeo.” Amethyst defends, splaying her arms in a grandiose explanation. 

The taller girl frowns, leery of the account, but relaxes again, refusing to lose the bet. They continue watching the film in silence.

* * *

The score drink-wise is, Amethyst: 7, Pearl: 5. Empty bottles litter the coffee table, and the two of them, rather than being mortified at the film, are cackling madly. 

“Like...he could have just...fuckin'..??? Gone to the police. AT LITERALLY ANY MOMENT??? Like I honestly don't even feel sorry for him. Should have just gotten a job at a gas station. He's way too young to retire anyways.” Amethyst admits, polishing off her seventh drink. 

“These people... like... normal people don't act this way. I just... I can't even begin to tell you how...” She hiccups, almost dropping her bottle. “How impossible this scenario is. Like... where are all the cars? Wouldn't someone notice that he's being taken hostage? He's literally in the middle of a 4-way stop!” her eyes are lidded, and her sense of gravity is... almost nonexistent at this point. 

“Urgh.. I gotta piss.” Amethyst announces, clicking the pause button.

“Again?!” Pearl whines, taking a lazy gulp from her Screwdriver. “You just went like... four minutes ago! And there's only like 10 minutes left! Can't you hold it?”

“I have the smallest...” She hiccups, standing up shakily. “The smallest bladder, ever. Okay? Do you want another one while I'm up, pissbaby?”

“What did you call m--?? Nevermind... yes, another.” She relents, sputtering a 'please' under her breath and lying her head down on her knees. 

“...Mmm, Maybe not. Looks like you've had enough.” She observes, leaning down to take Pearl's half-finished drink. 

Looking up from her legs, Pearl glares at Amethyst. “Are you my mother?”

“I fuckin' hope not.” She laughs, yanking the drink from her weak grip and finishing the drink for her. “I'll be right back.”

“H-hey! ..urgh...” Pearl gives up trying to argue; perhaps she should try to sober up. It's a little passed 5:00, she'll need to be in driving condition if she wants to get back to the campus in one piece. She lazily focuses her shaky vision on the laptop; Amethyst certainly paused on a weird moment; the main character's face is contorted and filled with rage. 

She yawns, rubbing her eyes. Another bad thing about alcohol is how tired it makes her. Maybe she should switch to coffee, now.

Whether it's the alcohol, as well, that's making Pearl feel so... strange, she doesn't quite know. She finds herself enjoying, and craving the small, absent-minded touches from Amethyst whenever she repositions or shifts around. Like when their thighs brush against each other, or their shoulders make contact. Pearl has also taken an odd liking to watching Amethyst, especially during boring parts of the film. The way she grins when she's amused or uncomfortable is... admittedly adorable. 

Being as drunk as she is, she fails to connect this to any sort of crush, and just pins it to her being touchy-feely whenever she drinks. When Amethyst returns, she's holding a new drink, but not for Pearl.

“How come you... get another?” She groans, crinkling her face in a passive anger. 

“Oh don't be so buttsore; this alcohol comes out of my paycheck, anyways.” She laughs, landing into the couch next to Pearl. “I think I've been purr-etty generous, giving you my favorite drink. Five of them, no less.”

Pearl sulks, trying to garner pity; but Amethyst only smiles, unpausing the film. 

For about three minutes, Pearl stays quiet; not necessarily paying attention to the movie, but concentrating on the heat between her and Amethyst's shoulders. It feels... electric, and her body is simply begging for more. Is this what it is to be 'turned on'? Can she be turned on by a stranger? Especially if it's a stranger who is literally... nothing like Pearl? Carefully, she tilts her head, getting a better look at the woman next to her. She looks plenty distracted, occasionally sipping from her bottle. 

Those lips look so soft... so warm. 

Apparently, something big happened in the movie, causing Amethyst to choke on her drink, sputtering yellow liquid everywhere. Pearl backs away, startled by the sudden convulsion. 

“Ugh...I forgot about that part. So nasty...” Amethyst coughs, wiping some spilled drink from her shirt-- it does no good, the stain already set in. She sighs, uttering an 'oh well' under her breath. 

Before long, the film ends, and the obnoxious menacing music returns for the credits.

“Welp.” Amethyst chirps. “At least you didn't puke. I thought you would during that last scene, to be honest. Like I almost gagged when he shoved his dick in the other dude's eye socket.”

Pearl only hums in response, resting against the back of the couch, head tilted in Amethyst's direction with a glazed, tired look in her eyes. The two of them sit in silence, with only the faded dangerous music playing from the laptop on the table. As Amethyst brings the bottle back up to her mouth, she lags, accidentally missing her mouth completely and getting it on her chin and shirt. 

She laughs again, tired. “Fuck, man. I can't even hold my drink. I guess it's time for me to stop, too.” 

Pearl hones in on the sight, Amethyst's chin, dripping with alcohol. A collection of sensations overload her body. In her chest, heart beating rapidly. Her throat, feeling dry and desperate. Her stomach, clenched with a certain anticipation-- a yearning. And between her legs... some undeniable heat. She can't resist it anymore. Frantically, she reaches forward, arresting Amethyst by the face and cocking her head so that it faces Pearl. For a split second, they share an electrifying moment of eye contact, evaluating one another. Amethyst, looking absolutely bewildered, while the taller woman just looks completely entranced with arousal. 

She snaps, closing the gap between them with potent greed. Pearl is sloppy, lapping up the spilled liqueur from Amethyst's chin with her tongue, perhaps also trying to kiss at the skin? She's so inebriated that her movements are anything but stable. Eventually, her mouth manages to stumble over Amethyst's lips, capturing them in an awkward, wet kiss. Just as she'd suspected, they are soft, thick, and irresistible. But just as quickly as the pleasure hits her, she is immediately mortified. 

Pearl shoots backward and away from Amethyst, staggering and landing on her back into the couch cushions. Breathing heavily, she covers her mouth, shocked at her own impulsive behavior. 

“I- I'MSOSssORRY...!” Pearl stammers with a slur, staring in horror at the woman she'd just assaulted. It's too dark and her vision is too unsteady to make out Amethyst's face, but she can only assume that she is equally mortified. 

“..fuck...” Amethyst breathes, bringing a hand up to her lips and touching them in a dazed stupor. 

Pearl's throat vibrates with a small whimper, tears welling up in her eyes. “I..I didn't.. I'm ssssorry. It was an..I mean I--”

“Urgh...shut up..” the darker-skinned woman mutters.

“E..excuse m--?”

Amethyst groans, sliding forward on the couch and on top of Pearl in one dangerously fluid movement. 

The physical contact of their bodies brushing against each other only clutches Pearl's attention; and her arousal returns almost instantly. 

The couch makes it awkward, at first, but she's quick to wrap her legs around Amethyst's waist. For another moment of silence, Amethyst peers down at her drunk house guest, wondering if this is really such a good idea. They're both drunk; she knows how these things go down. But the pressure in her chest and between her legs make such a strong argument against logic, and before long, she's lowering herself, hooking Pearl's lips in between her own. 

The both of them express delight, moaning and clumsily gripping at each other. The kiss is messy, sloppy, and over-all just extremely rough-- but it's still just as delicious. Pearl, having never kissed anyone before, is especially bad at it. Amethyst smiles listlessly, fascinated by how absolutely horrible a girl as beautiful as Pearl is at kissing. 

“Here, you're doing it wrong, just..tilt your head like this.” Amethyst murmurs, using her hands to crane Pearl's head slightly before reprising their kiss. The slender woman moans immediately at the improvement. It's much better this time, and Pearl is quite infatuated with sucking and biting on Amethyst's plump lips. She tastes like Screwdrivers, but somehow it's even better than that. 

“Mmmhh..” Amethyst quavers, lapping her tongue over Pearl's lips, she wants more. “Open your mouth.”

Without questioning the demand, Pearl does as she's told, receiving Amethyst's tongue full into her mouth. The sensation of her tongue writhing against her own is debilitating, and for a while she's completely disposed, allowing Amethyst to do as she pleases. Her arms snake around her host's shoulders, trapping her in their open-mouth kiss. 

Amethyst's hands delegate themselves lower, gripping hard at Pearl's boney hips and kneading into them. Pearl moans again, bucking up against the other. She's writhing, her body lusting, wanting something she hasn't had the pleasure of tasting yet.

Biting and suckling on Amethyst's tongue proves to be among one of Pearl's favorite occupations so far. Her own tongue joins the dance, working against the other's with surprisingly fluid movements considering how inebriated she is. Amethyst must approve of the sport, given her amused purring. 

Just as she was getting comfortable, Amethyst's hands work upwards, starting to unbutton the poorly-fitted plaid shirt. With each button, Pearl can feel her sanity slipping bit by bit. The moment the last button is undone, warm hands advance upwards over her stomach and ribs, coming to claim each of her breasts in a hardened grip. Pearl comes undone, moaning at the new sensation and arching her spine.

“Hhh...fuck, Pearl... you're so hot.” Amethyst groans, massaging each breast with skillful restraint. Pearl is a hot mess, and she can hardly keep herself contained. All these new sensations are overloading her, and Amethyst can tell that the girl beneath her is absolutely and helplessly turned on.

With swift movements, Amethyst snakes her hands beneath Pearl, making short work of the bra clasps. Pearl's breath hitches, and her eyes lock onto the other's. The tension is thick, and agonizing. With just one more movement, Amethyst can remove the pesky bra and have complete, free reign over Pearl's naked breasts. The staring contest lasts for what seems like hours; the two of them just quietly contemplating their options. 

Then, at the door, knocking.

Both of them snap out of their ecstasy, searching each other in bewildered confusion. 

The knocking repeats, and Amethyst slips off, getting to her feet wordlessly. 

“Ugh..who is it?” Amethyst calls towards the door, voice raspy from being drunk, tired, and horny all at the same time. 

“It's me, Buck. I brought your truck back early, yo.”

Amethyst grumbles a slew of curse words, stumbling to the door, leaving Pearl to try and collect herself. 

Suddenly she's painfully aware of what's happening; since the truck is back in Amethyst's possession, this means she will take her to Garnet's so she can get in her own car and go back to the campus. 

Meaning that whatever just happened... well... what does it mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I linked in the beginning, the song 'Bulcan Sex God' is from the movie, 'A Serbian Film'. PLEASE, do NOT do research into this film if you are an extremely sensitive individual. As a Banned film enthusiast myself, I must warn you that this film is truly sick. I am not condoning you to watch this film nor am I encouraging you to do so. You do not need to watch this film to read the fic. I changed the title in here to 'A Horrible Film' so that people wouldn't be too curious about it; but I can't stop you if you are honestly interested. Just remember that it is only a movie and it does not in any way reflect the character development in this fic.


	4. what went down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight Drinks is a fanwork intended for mature audiences only. If you are triggered by sex, drug abuse, violence, homosexuality, or pearlmethyst, you should probably hit the back button on your browser.
> 
> Quality checks performed by Badporl. If you find inconsistencies or errors, please message her. I do not edit my own works.
> 
> \---
> 
> Music for this chapter:
> 
> [1973 by James Blunt.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_5zOssXysIU) Amethyst's ringtone; no its not specific to Garnet, it's just her default ringtone for everyone.  
> [Good Night and Go by Imogen Heap.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dk8EtvBnaJA) Song playing in the truck on the way to Garnet's house.  
> [Cartwheels by The Reindeer Section.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-bc3mAJBf98) Just background music on the record player when Amethyst is talking to Cunt Destroyer.

“Oops, did I interrupt something?” Buck asks lazily, seeing the dishelved look on his friends' face, as well as a startled Pearl in the background, peering out at them from the couch. Amethyst only groans, pushing Buck out into the hallway and joining him, closing the door behind her.

Pearl left alone, stares at the ceiling above her, hearing her heartbeat in her ears and feeling it between her legs. Throbbing, pulsing. She's sweating, and her lips tingle with the afterglow of their sloppy kisses. What just happened? What was GOING to happen were they not interrupted?

Her eyes shift lower, taking in the sight of her own bare stomach. She's so pale. Her bra, loosely setting over her chest. The clasps are undone beneath her. She swallows dryly, bringing a hand up to her face as if to quell the raging fire beneath her skin. A small part of her hopes that something will happen, like Amethyst will be too wasted to drive, and they can pick back up where they left off.

Which was... what? Just make outs? Was Amethyst going to try having sex with Pearl? That might explain the undressing. Pearl groans, having no idea how this stuff even works. Was this going to be a one-night stand? Is Amethyst attracted to her beyond that of some chick she brought home for fun?

She looks to the laptop, credits just now finishing from the movie. She's sad, finding that she doesn't really want to leave. She wonders if they'll even stay in touch after this. She seriously doubts it. 

Sitting up, her head swims, and she clutches her head, fighting to gain at least some balance. She reaches behind herself, fumbling around with the clasps on her bra, trying to get them to click back into place. It's more of a struggle than usual, and she attributes this to the alcohol. 

A noise draws her attention; Amethyst's phone going off. The ringtone is a song. 

_I would call you up everyday Saturday night_  
_And we'd both stay out until the morning light_  
_And we sang, here we go again_  
_And though time goes by_  
_I will always be_  
_In a club with you_  
_In 1973_  
_Singing, here we go again_

Curiosity gets the best of her, and she picks it up, seeing the name 'Garnet'. It plays the chorus once, twice, and then stops. Should Pearl have tried answering it? Or bringing it to Amethyst? Eh... it's not her responsibility. She sets it back down, standing up to make another attempt at her bra, this time she is successful. She then proceeds to button up her... or, Amethyst's shirt.

\- - -

“Urgh...I fucked up big time.” Amethyst whines, bringing her hands up to her face in shame.

“What? No way man, she's hot.”

“Yeah she is, but now that you brought my truck back, I gotta drive her to Garnet's so she can get her car back...so she can get back to campus.” She says, defeated. “Thanks a lot, Buck-fuck.”

“Wait, what?” 

“Long story short... I picked up this girl from the bar I was playing at, because she was too drunk to drive. And like... things were fine, man. She crashed in my bed, nothing happened. Like, today we were just chilling and watching a movie. But then we had like... a few drinks, and she just... threw herself on me, and I got carried away, as usual. I'll probably never see her again after this.”

“Oh...that really sucks, man.” Buck says, genuinely sympathetic. “Ask her for her number?”

“Tch.” Amethyst scoffs. “She's a college girl. There's no way she'll fool around with me.”

“Are you kidding?” Bucks asks. “No way, you're a rock star. College chicks dig that stuff. I say go for it.”

“Ehhhhh...” Amethyst bites her lip, scratching her head awkwardly. “I don't think I'm her type. She's like... really stuck up and smart... she's practically perfect.”

Buck frowns, not knowing what to say. There's a shy knock on the door from inside Amethyst's apartment, and it opens without wait. Pearl peers out, nervous.

“Uh... is everything... okay?” She asks, sounding much more sober but looking really drowsy.

“Yeah, are you ready to go?” Amethyst asks curtly, rubbing one of her eyes. Buck stands to the side, feeling slightly guilty for interrupting the moment.

“I uh... I mean... are you okay to drive? I don't mind staying a bit longer..” 

For a moment, she indulges the thought of having Pearl stay another night; but decides that it'd just be too awkward now. 

“Nah, I'm fine. I can hold my alcohol better than you.” She concedes, trying to mask her disappointment. “Besides, you have classes and stuff tomorrow, don't you?”

Pearl doesn't deny it; but feels even more guilty, regardless. 

“Classes? Nice. What are you studying, yo?” Buck asks, seemingly trying to break the tension. 

Pearl snaps to attention; having answered this question before. “Majoring in Astrophysics, with a minor in Performing Arts.” She says timidly. “I do ballet for extracurricular.”

“Sounds rad. When do you graduate?”

“This June, actually.” She replies, smiling pleasantly. “Well, for my Associates. I have to relocate out of state if I want to pursue my Masters.” 

“Sounds like a lotta' dough.” He admits with a lazy chuckle. “You paying for it on your own?”

“Scholarships picked up most of it; but yes.”

“Good luck with that, man.” He offers with a half grin. This guy seems like he's not all there. Pearl says a a quiet thank you, and the tension returns.

And so Buck hands his friend the keys, muttering an awkward 'see ya' to Amethyst and throwing a 'nice to meet you' at Pearl before descending the corridor stairs. 

Amethyst twirls the lanyard around her wrist, fixing her gaze to the floor. After a moment of discomfort, Pearl finally exits the apartment, closing the door behind her. She rubs her arm, feeling sorry about this whole mess as she observes the shorter woman, who seems completely downcast.

It's quiet between them. Through the stairwell, out of the apartment complex, and into the truck-- neither of them say a word. Tension works it way between them, making the car ride extremely uncomfortable. The radio plays faintly, a song that Pearl dreads, as the store she works at plays it to death over the PA. 

_Why d'ya have to be so cute?_  
_It's impossible to ignore you_  
_Must you make me laugh so much_  
_It's bad enough we get along so well_  
_Say goodnight and go_

Pearl feels absolutely stupid. Whatever alcoholic high she was in is gone, and she's left with feeling dizzy and guilty. She doesn't know if she really likes this girl or just hopped on her because she was drunk-- and she can tell that Amethyst is just as confused. So why are neither of them talking about it? It shouldn't be this hard to... discuss something so simple.

She can't recognize her surroundings whatsoever, so any hopes of returning here on her own is clearly out of the question. Should she ask for Amethyst's number? Should she stay in touch? Would it be a good idea? They're such polar opposites, could a friendship or romance even work for them? Her mind rushes through too many scenarios to comprehend, and she only exhausts herself trying to come to any conclusion of her own.

The car ride is about 20 minutes, and each minute was an agonizingly quiet one. It's already getting dark out; one of the main reasons she hates the winter months. Fortunately though, Spring will be here, and with that, Spring Break. She'll have two weeks off from school-- and work. She requested the time off so she could go be with her parents. This small thought brings Pearl at least a moment of comfort.

Amethyst is... to no surprise, one of those wild drivers who brakes at the last second and makes really sharp turns. Pearl fears a few times that she'll puke again, but is finally relieved when they pull into a driveway. 

The truck shuts off, and Amethyst doesn't waste time trying to make idle chit-chat. A tall woman exits the small house, hands in her pockets and wearing shades-- despite it being night time. How odd.

For a moment, Pearl is delighted to see her own car, parked in front of the garage. She exits the truck slowly, greeted by cool air; she shivers hard. 

Amethyst and Garnet are conversing several feet away, quietly. Must be a private exchange; so Pearl just wanders to her car, leaning against it and waiting awkwardly. She can't leave until Amethyst does, since the truck blocks the driveway. She wonders what they're talking about-- hopefully not about her, or what happened...

What if Amethyst is going into great detail about how Pearl might be an alcoholic? After all, in the span of about 18 hours she'd seen Pearl get shit-faced twice. Pearl facepalms, groaning silently to herself. She glances over to the other two, Garnet is... grinning? Whatever for? Then they both stop talking, looking over to Pearl. She waves to them both awkwardly, feeling extremely uncomfortable. After a few seconds, they walk over to join her.

Garnet is... really really tall. Like... Pearl thought that she herself was tall, but looking to Garnet she feels so... small. When she looks to Amethyst, her gaze is fixed to the side, apparently very interested at a tree to her right. 

“Are you okay to drive?” Garnet asks, breaking the silence. Pearl jumps, startled at how low the woman's voice is.

“I... uh. Yes.” She decides. “Th-thank you for taking care of my car.” 

“It was no problem.” She replies vacantly, handing over Pearl's car keys. She then looks down to her friend expectantly. Garnet bumps Amethyst with her elbow in the side of the head-- given the height difference it's a little entertaining to watch. Amethyst glares up to her friend, pursing her lips and growling slightly. 

“What?” She asks, clearly irritated.

“What do you mean 'what'? She can't leave until you move your truck.” Garnet explains with a half smile. 

“Oh, yeah. Right.” She says, cooling off instantly. She looks to Pearl for the first time since they left the apartment, but the eye contact doesn't last for very long. “Do you need... directions, or something?”

Pearl, rubbing her arm stiffly, frowns a little. “I have a GPS. I should be okay. Thank you, though.” 

Amethyst makes a soft grunt in response, digging her hands into her pockets and shrugging. Her behavior is saddening; did Pearl hurt her in some way? Or is she just confused and doesn't know what to say? Pearl looks to Garnet, hoping for some kind of hint on what to do, but the woman just... stands there, with a certain intimidation factor; arms crossed and looking completely empty.

Abruptly, Amethyst turns away to go to her truck. That's it? No good-bye? No nice meeting you? Pearl's chest tightens, throat filled with words she wants to say. Garnet also leaves, heading back into the house. These people are so...? Blunt with their actions, it's so weird. 

Something in Pearl kicks in, and she quickly darts after Amethyst, coming up the driver-side window and knocking on the window.

Rather than being met with another brooding face, Amethyst seems slightly surprised, rolling down the window. 

“Uh... yeah?” She asks, finding it difficult to look Pearl in the eyes.

Pearl digs deep, finding the nerve to say a few things. Of course, the first thing to come out is something negative.

“You should really work on your social skills. You didn't even say 'bye'.” Pearl explains haughtily.

Amethyst squints, crinkling her brows in disbelief at the statement. “Are you fuckin' serious?”

“Euh... y-yes!” She says, a bit too loud. “You can't just... kiss me and start undressing me and not even--”

“Uh, pause.” Amethyst interrupts, leaning out the window. “YOU kissed me first.” She says pointedly. “I wouldn't have done anything if you hadn't initiated it!”

Pearl rolls her shoulders, fumbling over her response and frowning. “I...I, uh. I'm sorry.” 

The anger drains from Amethyst's face almost instantly at the sight of Pearl looking sad. She leans back against the seat, sighing heavily. “Eh... it's alright. I know what it's like to... get drunk and make... mistakes. You at least had fun, didn't you?”

A mistake? Pearl would hardly call it a... well... it was impulsive, but she would be lying if she said she didn't want to kiss her in the first place. 

“Amethyst...” She says softly, looking to the girl in silent plea. The girl in question looks back to Pearl with proper eye-contact this time. “I uh... Thank you. For... everything.”

At this, a blush creeps over Amethyst's face, forcing her to look away and focus on the steering wheel. “Uh... y-yeah. It's... it's no big deal. Don't worry about it... Pearl.”

The tall girl smiles, stepping away from the truck. “I uh... I'll return your clothes next time I'm in the area.” She states, tugging lightly at the plaid shirt loosely hanging from her body. 

Amethyst's face brightens up, and a small smile shifts onto her lips. “Aw geez. You don't have to do that.”

“I want to.” Pearl says simply. “And I still owe you for paying my tab last night.” 

“Oh. That's right, you DO owe me.” She bites playfully, looking to Pearl with that familiar grin. Pearl is happy to see her acting less depressed, now.

“So I... uh... I'll see you...? Around?” She asks hopefully. 

Amethyst pauses for a bit, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. “Yeah. See ya around.” 

* * *

“Dammit!” Pearl mutters, pulling into the campus. “I didn't get her phone number!” She sighs, hitting her head against the wheel. How is she supposed to get a hold of her, now? “Uggghhh...” 

She supposes she could just drop in at the bar tomorrow after work... but she doesn't know if Amethyst plays every night, or if it was just a one-time gig. She doesn't even know the band name. Reaching into her purse in the passenger seat, she withdraws her phone, immediately confronted with a dead battery. 

Of course. 

She hopes that Rose isn't too worried. She is, after all, her only real friend on campus.

Unlocking the door to her dorm room, she immediately turns up the heat and wanders to her bedroom, throwing her purse onto the bed and hooking her phone to the charger. Now standing in the middle of her room, completely stationary, she's suddenly aware of how alone she is. 

It's strange how being with anyone for an extended period of time can alter your sense of being and make you forget how things used to be. She brings a hand up to her mouth, remembering her and Amethyst's impassioned kisses. Her lips feel strange, like a gentle burning.

Admittedly, Amethyst is fun to be around; aside from being a great kisser, she's funny, playful and lively. Things that Pearl doesn't experience a lot of on campus, in a dorm room all by herself.

Walking into the bathroom, she observes herself in the mirror. Her hair is messy, the shirt Amethyst gave her is loose and the buttons are misaligned-- she must have been too drunk and frazzled to do them up right. There are bags under her eyes from her awful hangover. Despite looking as bad as she does, she can't help but feel...alive. She had fun today. 

But now she must get back to reality; back to homework and back to studying. Back to her routine of school, work, sleep. After splashing some cool water on her face, she moves back to her bedroom. Pearl looks to her small twin bed, immediately missing Amethyst's much larger and softer bed-- hell, even her couch was more comfortable than Pearl's bed. She grabs her laptop and textbooks, laying them out on the mattress and clambering up to join them. 

This is going to be a long night; she has to catch up with whatever material she missed today; thankfully she can just check the syllabus and e-mail one of her classmates.

Her phone buzzes, drawing her attention away immediately. Unlocking the screen, she's met with 19 unread messages, and 4 missed calls. Great...

[03/05/2015 – 10:14 P.M] Rose: Are you off of work yet?  
[03/05/2015 – 10:26 P.M] Rose: Please don't tell me they're making you zone before close. :(  
[03/05/2015 – 10:34 P.M] Rose: Peeeeeeeeaaaarrrrlllllllll  
[03/05/2015 – 11:22 P.M] Rose: You're still not back and I'm a bit worried. Could you text me to let me know you're okay?  
[03/05/2015 – 11:56 P.M] Rose: Are you drinking again?  
[03/06/2015 – 01:19 A.M] Missed call from Rose.  
[03/06/2015 – 01:28 A.M] Rose: I'm going to bed. Please call me when you have a chance. I'll see you in class tomorrow.  
[03/06/2015 – 01:29 A.M] Rose: Hopefully..  
[03/06/2015 – 09:09 A.M] Blank text message from 555-248-9683.  
[03/06/2015 – 10:29 A.M] Rose: You're not in class and I'm legitimately worried...  
[03/06/2015 – 10:36 A.M] Rose: This is so unlike you. I hope you're alright, Pearl.  
[03/06/2015 – 10:37 A.M] Rose: You know you can talk to me if something is bothering you..right?  
[03/06/2015 – 11:18 A.M] Moron: Hey did u do the chem homwrk? I left mine at home.  
[03/06/2015 – 11:18 A.M] Moron: If so, ca n I copy?  
[03/06/2015 – 11:21 A.M] Moron: Pleeeeeeeeaaaaasssseeeee?????? :((((((  
[03/06/2015 – 11:29 A.M] Moron: >;( ur mean..  
[03/06/2015 – 12:36 P.M] Moron: You're not in class lmao, I think this is the first time ur a no show???? holy shit the teacher is making such a big deal out of it tho. Its p funny.  
[03/06/2015 – 01:23 P.M] Missed call from Rose.  
[03/06/2015 – 03:24 P.M] Missed call from 555-828-9447.  
[03/06/2015 – 03:28 P.M] Missed call from 555-828-9447.  
[03/06/2015 – 03:58 P.M] Blank text message from 555-248-9683.  
[03/06/2015 – 04:19 P.M] WFCU: Alert: Deposit of $342.12 hit Checking. Current balance: $6,228.19. To end WFCU transaction alerts, text STOP to 555-2181.  
[03/06/2015 – 06:21 P.M] Rose: You haven't showed up to any of your classes and you aren't answering your door... and now your phone is going straight to voicemail. I don't know whats wrong but I'm going to alert campus security...

Pearl groans, she hates how worried Rose gets over everything; it's a little ridiculous. And no sooner than she finishes reading these messages, there's a loud knock at her door. 

“Will I ever get this homework done?” Pearl whines, maneuvering off of her bed and sprinting to the door. The knocking ensues just as she's about to answer. When she opens it, she is met with two campus police officers, an RA, and Rose.

“Pearl!” Rose exclaims, genuinely surprised that anyone answered the door.

“Can I help you?” She says to the officers, exhausted. All of them just stand there, confused.

* * *

Rose's laughter is loud, and normally Pearl finds the laugh to be adorable, but right now it's just annoying. “That's so wild, Pearl. I never imagined you, of all people, would have such an adventure.” She admits, sipping her hot chocolate. The two of them are seated on the couch in the living room, regaling the events of Pearl's last 24 hours-- in as little detail as possible. Omitting the juicy part where she almost had sex with a stranger.

“Hrrmmm...” She responds, nursing her own cup of hot tea. “Sorry I worried you. But did you really need to get campus security involved? I mean, kids go missing all the time-- and for far longer periods.”

Rose shrugs. “You're not exactly the type to miss classes. All of your teachers were surprised. I bet they're give you an extension, no questions asked.”

“That won't be necessary.” Pearl explains. “I should be able to catch up tonight.”

“Soooo... whats with the outfit?” Rose asks, jumping subjects. “I never saw you as the plaid-type.”

"Nyyyyeeeehhh...” Pearl hesitates, setting her mug down and hugging her knees up to her chest. She forgot to change when she got home.

“Oh no... don't tell me...” Rose teases, a smirk starting to curve into her lips. “The drummer?”

“URGH!!! ROSE! I've never been so embarrassed in my life! She said that I WILLINGLY, got UNDRESSED in her TRUCK because I PUKED ALL OVER MYSELF!” She whines, burying her face in her hands, suffering another wave of humiliation. 

Rose laughs, again. “Ohhh...goodness. My poor Pearl.”

She peers out at Rose, watching her take delight in the suffering.

“I can't believe I let this happen. Now I have to order a new work uniform. They make me pay $45 for a stupid red polo and khakis. Fourty-FIVE. Dollars. I just...I could get it cheaper online...”

A certain, familiar seriousness takes over, and Rose scoots closer, putting a hand on Pearl's back. It is then that Pearl knows she's about to get... not exactly a lecture, but a concerned observation. 

“You haven't drank in about a year, what's with the sudden interest?” She asks, voice as soft as ever.

Pearl grumbles a little, unfolding her legs and leaning into the couch. “I don't...I don't know? I mean I wasn't drinking with the intent to get drunk. It just... felt so good not having to think about anything. I only wanted a drink or two because work was awful. Some guy got angry at me for not price-matching a LAMP SHADE. Like... you have to BRING IN PROOF... of the competition's price, we can't just take the customer's word for it. But noooo, he has to get all... worked up. He called me the b-word! Over a lamp shade!!! And then this woman got mad over--”

“Pearl.” Rose cuts in gently, firming her grip. This earns Pearl's undivided attention. “Just promise me you won't...go back to how you were. You've been doing so well...”

Pearl shirks away from the grip, suddenly offended by the care. “I...I'm fine. It was just a one time thing.” She explains, eyes averting to the floor.

“As long as you're sure.” The friend raises with concern.

Pearl sighs, relaxing under her friend's touch. She's fortunate to have someone who cares as much as Rose does. Sometimes it's hard to comprehend just how long they've known each other. Practically since they were born. 

“Anyways...” Pearl offers, trying to steer away from the subject of alcoholism. “I heard that Gregory is going to be playing at the Spring Break dance. I'm assuming you had a hand in that.”

A smile creeps back to Rose's face. She's utterly infatuated with the man; who Pearl finds absolutely uninteresting, but knows that the best way to loosen Rose up to talk about him. “When are you going to stop toying with him? I'm getting annoyed at his curious texts concerning you.”

“Ohhh, I don't know. I just like making him chase, I guess.” She explains, sighing in reverie. “But I suppose you're right. He has been pining after me for what is it? Four months? Maybe I should throw him a bone.”

“Please. Do.” Pearl begs, smiling tiredly. 

“Are you going to go to the dance?” Rose asks. “Please say you will.”

“Of course I will. I wouldn't leave you stranded in a sea of hormonal college students trying to sneak vodka into the punch.” Pearl assures. Rose, being an RA, is also a part of the dance planning committee, and Pearl always attends events for moral support. 

“I knew I could count on you. Hey, maybe you could invite that mysterious drummer.” She suggests with a sly grin. Pearl grumbles, embarrassed; but doesn't exactly deny the suggestion outright.

“...Maybe.”

* * *

“Yeah man, she was hot as hell. I almost got to see the tiddies.” Amethyst explains, sprawled out on her bed, soft indie playing from her record player. The white Christmas lights that hang from the ceiling are now turned on, giving her room a tranquil atmosphere. Her cat purrs loud, rolling onto her back and exposing her stomach. 

“Nah, they aren't big, but I can tell... maaaaaaan... I bet they look perfect. Like her face.”

The cat trills, waiting for affection. 

“I so totally would have wrecked that, if Buck-fuck didn't...urghhhh..” She whimpers, reaching forward and scratching under Cunt Destroyer's chin. “I wish you would have seen her. I think you'd like her, too.”

The cat purrs louder, craning her neck at the attention. 

“Her lips taste way better than a Screwdriver. That's fo' sho'.” She sighs, starting to rub the cat's furry belly. “And LIKE.... UGH... the sounds she makes. I can't stop thinking about her... She's so soft. I just wanna straight-up die, Cunty. Just... let me die...” She relents, blushing and burying her face into the bed. 

The cat switches from affection to pain-play, digging her nails into Amethyst's arm. She doesn't care though.

“She didn't even wuss out on the banned film! She's a keeper. For sure. Any girl who can sit through a nasty film like that is just... hnnnggg... I can't wait to see her again.” She sighs, smiling and relaxing into the bed. Cunt Destroyer goes limp, giving up on the claw attack and resorting to just idly licking and grooming the skin.

Suddenly, Amethyst shoots back up, on all fours, face panicked and screaming. The cat is startled, jumping off the bed and darting out of the room.

“aaaahhhHHHHH!!!! FUCK!! I DIDN'T GET HER NUMBER!!!”


	5. bashful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight Drinks is a fanwork intended for mature audiences only. If you are triggered by sex, drug abuse, violence, homosexuality, or pearlmethyst, you should probably hit the back button on your browser.
> 
> Quality checks performed by Badporl. If you find inconsistencies or errors, please message her. I do not edit my own works.
> 
> \---
> 
> Music for this chapter:
> 
> [Improv Keys Sesh by Nicholas Cheung.](https://soundcloud.com/marvelot/nicholas-cheung-improv-keys) Pearl's phone alarm.  
> [Dream Happening by Sea Pinks.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W6TMQ5wqp9Q) Music playing from Amethyst's truck.  
> [Wasted On You by Sea Pinks.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7kyZMf8QXzw)  
> [Adult Diversion by Alvvays.](https://soundcloud.com/alvvays/adult-diversion)

The alarm on her phone goes off too early, in Pearl's opinion. 7:00 AM hits. A pale hand emerges from under a tangled mess of blankets, fumbling around aimlessly for the device. In her tired stupor, she accidentally knocks the phone off the nightstand. It falls to the floor, continuing its loud rhythm. Pearl chose to wake up to piano music, which normally she would find soothing, but right now finds to be unbearable and grating. 

“Hnnngggg...” She whines, being forced to come out from under the warm nest. Her eyes remain shut, having enough faith in herself to navigate off the bed without needing to open them-- she's wrong, and soon follows her phone, tumbling out of bed and spilling onto the floor gracelessly.

The phone is next to her head, restarting its awfully loud clamor. Lazily, she grabs it, still refusing to open her eyes as she thumbs the screen for the snooze button. Eventually she finds it, and the peaceful silence returns once more. Class isn't until 9:00 AM, but she normally likes to be up earlier to get ready and double check her homework. Rose didn't leave until 1:00 AM last night; she was in the mood for more talk of that loser, Gregory. Pearl, being a patient friend, didn't have it in her to tell her to leave; so she had to listen.

And so from 1-4 AM she worked on catching up with missed material. Couldn't fall asleep until 6:00 AM because she kept thinking about Amethyst and life in general.

“I'm in hell...” She mumbles groggily, rubbing her eyes and remaining on the floor. She didn't shower and she didn't even bother changing into sleepwear. Amethyst's ruddy plaid shirt is the only thing she's wearing. It's just...so comfortable. And it smells nice, like pine. Before she can stop herself, she has her nose pressed into the fabric, reminiscing in thoughts of waking up in Amethyst's bedroom.

A faint knock at the door.

It must be Rose; she always shows up before class so they can compare notes and walk together.

But she doesn't want to get up. So she reaches for her phone to text her.

[03/07/2015 – 07:08 A.M] Me: Just use your RA key and let yourself in.  
[03/07/2015 – 07:08 A.M] Rose: Why can't you answer the door? Are you in the shower?  
[03/07/2015 – 07:09 A.M] Me: No.

The sound of the door opening soon follows, and Pearl looks out her bedroom door to see her friend, bright and chipper, ready for the day. In comparison, Pearl feels like a pile of garbage. 

“Did... did you sleep down there?” Rose asks, peering down at a mess of limbs and blankets.

“Nnnnggg... I smell coffee.” She groans, ignoring the question.

“I stopped at the cafe before coming here. Do you want some?”

After thinking, she nods slowly, and sits up off the floor, accepting the paper cup. “What flavor?”

“Salted Caramel.” 

Pearl sips at it timidly, its not hot like she'd anticipated. Rose observes with confusion. 

“Are you STILL wearing that thing?” She asks in remark to the plaid shirt.

Pearl whines a little, starting to pout. “Did you finish the PRA homework?”

Rose frowns a little. “Yes, did you?”

“Of course I did, but I was so tired last night... I'm sure I got a lot of it wrong.” She admits, inviting herself for more of Rose's coffee.

“Mmm. Well, you can have that coffee, then. You need it more than I.” She allows, smiling tenderly.

“You're wonderful.” Pearl murmurs, eyes heavy with lack of sleep. 

“Do you have work today?” Rose asks, kneeling to rub Pearl's back gently. 

Wordlessly, Pearl reaches for her phone to check her schedule. “Ehhh... Five to close. Not too bad, I guess.” 

“Maybe you should call off tonight. You need to catch up on rest.” 

Pearl frowns a little; if she DID go to work then she could drop by the bar again tonight and see Amethyst; and get her phone number. But she's so terribly tired and exhausted; Rose is right, she needs to catch up and recuperate. It'll take every ounce of willpower just to make it through her two classes today, alone. So she gives Rose a nod, agreeing to call off.

“Why don't you go shower? I'll look over your homework while you do, okay?”

“Right. Just as soon as I finish this coffee.” Pearl concedes, earning a small chuckle from her pink friend.

* * *

Amethyst's plaid shirt finally leaves Pearl's body for the first time since she woke up with it yesterday morning. Admittedly, it's a little strange. She holds it in her hands, looking at it with a certain fondness before bringing it up to her face, savoring it's musty scent. When she sets it on the counter next to the sink, she is then drawn to observing herself in the mirror. 

She can't help but wonder what Amethyst would think of her body. Is she too thin? Too plain? Are her breasts not full enough? Does she prefer shaved, or _au naturel_? These thoughts provoke her into exploring her own body, feeling the subtle juts of her hipbones, her prominent ribs, sharp shoulders, salient collar bones; she's never really thought of how someone else might see her body-- because she's never really thought anyone would see her naked. It makes her question her body in ways she'd never cared to before. And it's unsettling.

Furthermore, when Pearl is finally in the shower, the uncomfortably intrusive thoughts of Amethyst's sex toy invades her conscience. Does she... masturbate in the shower? How does anyone actually START masturbating? When do they just... decide one day that they want to try that? Embarrassingly enough, Pearl has never really entertained the idea, finding it to be an awkward waste of time. And... just... going out in... public to buy toys seems so... humiliating and strange. 

She's felt arousal before; but she's never acted on it, because she's not quite sure what she's supposed to do? How does one know when they're 'climaxing' or about to orgasm? All the books in the works couldn't teach her the first thing about sex; not because she's incapable of understanding sexual mechanisms, but because she's a firm believer that the best way to learn is to experience it. Practice it.

But Pearl doesn't want to do it alone, she'd rather share the experience with someone.

...Whether that someone will be Amethyst is a whole other thought process that Pearl is far too exhausted to consider. 

Although she takes showers, Pearl likes to sit on the floor and use this time for thinking. Thus, showers for her are 20% cleaning and 80% philosophical nonsense. She knows nothing about Amethyst; what her occupation is, where her parents are, if she has siblings, if she's ever had a girlfriend, how old she is...nothing. Pearl is inquisitive, and is normally pretty spot-on with her assumptions, but something about Amethyst just baffles her. She seems so brash and reckless-- but also very caring and thoughtful; she did, after all, take it upon herself to take care of Pearl when she was passed-out drunk. 

She wants to see much more of her. She finds Amethyst to be intriguing. That and she's painfully attractive. She hasn't felt this interested in another person in such a long time, she'd almost forgotten what its like to see so... enamored by someone.

...Would Amethyst even go to a dance? Sure, she seems like the type to play at one but she doesn't come off as the kind to just... go? Pearl then proceeds imagine at least 16 different instances in which she would ask Amethyst to a dance-- each of them only making her feel nervous and uncomfortable.

_“So... there's a... dance... at the campus...”_

_“Haha a college dance? How lame.”_

_“HAHA YES... LAME... totally lame forget I even said anything!”_

Or something like that.

She gently places her forehead against the wall of the shower, lying under a hot stream of water. Mind flooding with one singular thought. This one person. Though their meeting was brief, Amethyst has managed to pick Pearl up and flip her upside-down. And she can't deny that it's a wonderful kind of confusion that she hopes will last for a long time.

* * *

“Aren't you going to eat anything?” Rose asks as Pearl and her leave the dorm complex for class.

“Hm? Oh... no, I'm fine. Coffee is filling for me.” She says wearily. 

Rose gets that worried look on her face, and Pearl knows whats coming next.

“...Have you been eating at all lately?”

Pearl inhales slowly, trying not to get immediately defensive; which is a struggle in itself due to being so tired and cranky. “Yes.”

Rose has a penchant for 'mothering' Pearl, so to speak. It makes things awkward sometimes, but Pearl knows she means well. But... that doesn't mean she doesn't get irritated by it. She thinks back, trying to recall the last time she DID eat... which would be like... Monday morning. Today is Wednesday, but she doesn't want Rose to fret over it. 

The fact is, Pearl only eats when she absolutely has to, lately. The old habit is returning. She just hates the way food makes her feel and she hates going to ballet practice feeling... heavy? She just prefers to be empty, its when she feels most confident. Which she understands is... unhealthy, but she can't help herself. 

“You look a bit ill, Pearl.” Rose counters, adjusting her backpack. “We'll stop and get food at the cafe after class. I'll pay.” She decides, giving Pearl little room to argue.

“You don't have to do that...” She says, slightly grumpy.

“While you were in the shower I looked around your kitchen, hun, whens the last time you even went grocery shopping?”

“Urgh... why do you do that? Why do you constantly try to take care of me? I'm your friend, not your child.”

“Because I care about you. And we've been friends for so long. I want to make sure you're alright.”

A nasty blush burns on Pearl's face, and she turns her head away, pouting. “I can take care of myself.”

Rose chuckles a little. “I know you can, but I do it better.” She explains, putting a warm hand on Pearl's back. 

“Hrrrmmm...”

Ahead of them, a familiar face waits, holding the door to the science building open. Gregory. Rose's face immediately lights up, while Pearl's somehow manages to look even more tired and nauseated. Her tall friend waves to the man, to which he just flips his hair dramatically and points back, grinning. Pearl simply scoffs at him, earning an elbow to her side by Rose.

“What is HE doing here? I thought he was an art major...” She mumbles as they draw closer. 

Rose doesn't respond, quickening her pace to greet him. Pearl can feel her headache returning.

“Good morning, _ladies._ ” He addresses, trying to look handsome.

“Good morning, Mr. Universe.” Rose replies with a giggle. 

“Looks like we're going to the same place.” He observes, with a tone that Pearl identifies as absolutely repulsive. She swears she can feel the coffee threatening to make a reappearance., boiling at the bottom of her throat. 

“How delightful.” Rose trills, clasping her hands together. 

_You mean vomitorium..._ Pearl thinks to herself, wanting to get to the classroom so she can sit down. Her books are heavy and she's too tired to care for idle chit-chat between heterosexuals.

“You look pretty grumpy.” Greg says to Pearl, acknowledging her hapless appearance. 

“She had a pretty rough day, yesterday.” Rose responds in Pearl's stead. “BUT... she did meet someone. SO I guess it's not all that bad.”

“R-Rose!” Pearl squawks. 

“What? It's true. I mean, you wore her clothes all day and then slept in them.”

“Ohohohoo, who's the lucky guy?” Greg asks, wiggling his brows suggestively. Pearl groans, pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation.

Rose interjects, with an ambitious grin. “You mean _girl_. And she's a drummer who plays in a bar band!”

Greg's face goes blank, but then comes back with a smirk to mimic Rose's. “Hot.”

“Well I'm done here. I'll see you in class, Rose.” Pearl says crankily, walking passed them. Greg and Rose only share a laugh, continuing to chat as Pearl leaves.

* * *

“Don't you have work today?” Garnet asks, peering down at Amethyst's stubby legs, which are sticking out from under her truck. She's preoccupied with trying to locate the source of a weird 'rattling sound'. The truck's radio is hooked up, playing music from Amethyst's ipod, a selection of songs from Sea Pinks. 

“Uh, no? They called me off because one of the worts needs to be replaced. I'm not too sore about it though. They called off like six others.”

“Hm.” 

“Why?”

“No reason. It's just odd that you're here in the morning. I thought you'd take the chance to sleep in.”

“MAN. I can't even SLEEP, Garnet. I'm just... too damn excited to get any.” She gushes, palming around and wiggling anything she can get a grip on to try and replicate the sound. Nothing is moving though, much to her frustration.

“Pearl.” Garnet concludes out loud. 

“Straight the fuck up, G.” She confirms, hitting a random pipe with her fist. It doesn't budge. "I don't care what it takes, I'm tapping that.”

Garnet snickers, walking into her opened garage to grab a few lawn chairs. When Amethyst slides out, her hands are blackened, which spread onto her face when she mindlessly rubs one of her eyes. 

“Are we playing tonight?” She asks, handing Amethyst a small towel and taking a seat. Amethyst lazily scrubs her hands off, failing to get the grime under her nails. 

“Eh... I dunno'. Smiley hasn't texted me yet; but then again he normally texts me at like three or four. Why? Do you got some place to be?”

“No. I just have a feeling that you will be seeing each other again, tonight.”

“What? You mean Pearl?” Amethyst asks, low-key hopefulness in her eyes.

Garnet simply nods, crossing her legs.

“Well if you say so then it's gotta be true.” She says, shrugging and cracking a smile. “You haven't been wrong yet, G. How the fuck do you do that, by the way?”

“Intuition.” She replies frankly, shifting her shades.

“Bull shit. You got some freaky ESP shit goin' on. For real.”

“Maybe I should open up a fortune telling side business.”

Amethyst kicks at the wheels a bit. “Psh, no way. You're in a band now. You ain't got time for that stuff. Besides, I need you to tell me...what sex position Pearl likes best.” She declares, cocking her head and giving a perverse look.

It's quiet. Amethyst turns to Garnet, as if expecting a serious answer.

“You're kidding.” Garnet says frankly.

“Uh... no?”

“Amethyst. She's a virgin.”

“WHAT? How do you know that?!” She charges, grabbing a small stool and climbing on top of it so she can open the hood of her truck. 

Garnet hums pensively, clicking her jaw. “It's obvious.”

“That... that doesn't??? How is it obvious?! Explain your ESP garbage to me in a way I understand!” Amethyst whines, tinkering around with random mechanisms in her truck. 

“I cannot.”

“That girl ain't no virgin. I can tell these things, G. She's one o'them kinky white girls who likes it doggy style with a strap-on.” She explains, grinning wide and provocatively waggling her brows. Garnet only laughs, amused at her friend's assumptions. “Also, she's in college. What do college girls do? Have sex. Lots of sex.”

“You're setting yourself up for disappointment if you think that girl knows what 'doggy style' even means.” 

“Okay. Let's be real here. Everyone knows what doggy style is. Even virgins.”

When Garnet doesn't reply, things go quiet for a while. A song ends, and another begins.

“You know... like... normally when stuff like this happens its a one-night stand sorta thing.” Amethyst says quietly, stopping her examination of her truck. “But with her...? I don't know... I kinda' want this to be more than that. Like I wanna get to know her and junk...”

“A relationship. You just described a relationship.” Garnet says frankly, crossing her legs. 

“Oh, right. One of those things.” 

Amethyst leans against the front of the truck, peering at nothing in particular. A relationship, huh? She hasn't necessarily experienced anything like that. Her life has been pretty fast-paced up until now. One night stands, partying hard, living recklessly. The thought of investing time and energy into someone beyond that of a sexual nature is a foreign concept. And slightly intimidating. 

* * *

“We're all going to Marty's tonight at about 9:00, so I won't be on the campus when you get off work.” Rose informs Pearl. They've finished their morning class, and staying true to her word, Rose is dragging Pearl to lunch. Fortunately, Gregory was held up by some of his less-annoying friends, leaving Pearl alone with Rose.

“That man is a creep.” Pearl decides. “He doesn't even take classes here. Doesn't anyone else find it odd that he hangs around the campus so much? He must be a drug dealer of some kind.”

“Oh, Pearl. Must you always believe the worst in people?”

“I believe in logical evaluations based on statistics an--”

“And first appearances.” Rose interjects. “Don't you ever get bored of having just me for a friend?” She asks, smiling innocently. Pearl huffs, rolling her eyes.

“I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to learn.”

“Hmmm...” She sighs, opening the door to the campus cafe. Pearl becomes immediately ill at the smell of food, wanting to go back outside into the fresh cold air.

“I uh... I don't feel so good.” Pearl says abruptly. Rose reacts with suspicious concern. 

“How so?”

“I uh... I feel nauseous.” She stammers, trying to look as sick as she feels; which doesn't take much effort considering the poor amount of sleep she's running on. “I think I'm going to lie down for a bit before my next class.”

“Are you sure? You haven't eaten anything today. Maybe you're nauseous from hunger?”

“I don't think so...” She says firmly, casting her eyes elsewhere. 

“Do you want me to go with you? I don't have to go to the party tonight. I don't mind staying.” She offers, forcing Pearl to grow even more embarrassed.

“That won't be necessary. You worry too much! I just need to rest a bit. That's all.” Pearl chirps, flicking her wrist in subtle denial to the offer.

Rose, adopting as look of disappointment, relents without a fight. “Alright. But text me if you end up wanting anything. Okay?”

“Okay.” She agrees, knowing full and well that she won't be changing her mind. “I'll see you tomorrow, then. Have fun at the party.” Pearl bids with an ill smile. 

. . .

In her room, Pearl unloads her books and backpack onto the couch, retreating into her bedroom. On her knees, she peers under the bed, pulling out a storage tote and unclipping the lid to reveal her 'contraband' stash of alcohol; which are just some weak wine coolers and hard ciders. She may not be hungry, but she doesn't mind drinking. She doesn't care if it's only a little after 11 AM, she just wants one drink. Whether she cares to admit it or not, Rose is getting on her nerves lately. Things have been shaky and awkward between them for almost a year now. It's just... not the same as it used to be. 

Before Pearl made that stupid mistake. 

The cap is pried off, and she easily downs about 1/4th of it in one go. The flavor is disgusting, but she doesn't necessarily have it for taste, anyways. She wishes Amethyst were here to drink with her; it's more fun when you drink with others. Maybe she can sneak off of campus without Rose knowing and go see her tonight.

But why does she have to sneak around Rose? She doesn't know; she just feels like she has to. Their friendship just feels strained and uncomfortable anymore. Pearl blames herself, more than anything. She doesn't want to disappoint Rose, and doesn't want her to worry anymore. She just wants a light-hearted easy-going friendship like they used to have. 

Is it all in her head? Are things okay? Does Rose really care one way or the other about what Pearl does? She groans, landing onto her hard bed with a sad thud. 

Her phone buzzes, and she picks it up, only being greeted by another blank text from a phone number she doesn't recognize. 'Quite popular', she says to herself, taking another swig of amber liquid. While the phone is at her attention, she calls into work, informing them that she will be absent; the manager is less than pleased, but Pearl knows he can't exactly do anything about it other than count it against her attendance-- which has been perfect since she started. Somehow she doesn't care much anymore about maintaining a clean record anymore. 

At the bottom of her drink, Pearl is drowsy again, setting the empty bottle on the nightstand. Perhaps a nap before her next class would be wise; she doesn't want to fall asleep and miss even more material than she already has. She leans over the side of the bed collecting her blankets off of the floor and wrapping herself in them. Bliss. That's the feeling she receives once her eyes close. The warmth in her bed pales in comparison to the warmth she felt next to Amethyst, but it's enough to help her drift off peacefully.

* * *

“She's not here.” Amethyst pouts, taking a drink of her whiskey as they yield a break from playing. The bar is about half-full, and none of the crowd fits the image of Pearl. It's a bit past 9 PM, and she grows more and more impatient. “I'm starting to think that your ESP is a load of garbage.” She grumbles, giving Garnet the stink eye.

“I never said she'd be coming here. I only said that you would be seeing each other.” Garnet says calmly, idly plucking away at her guitar. 

“...DAMMIT, GARNET.”

Her bandmate snickers, delighted in Amethyst's array of disgruntled expressions. 

“Well the only way that'll come true is if I go see her. And now I'm definitely not going to because then your ESP bullshit would end up being true. So fuck you, I'm staying right here.” She glowers, angrily crumpling up a napkin in her fist. They stare at each other; Amethyst challenging the other while Garnet just remains placid.

“I mean... it's not like I could just drive up to the campus. I don't even know what dorm she's in or how I could even get in, it's probably secured. And I have no way of contacting her.” She explains out loud, mostly to herself.

“True.” Garnet agrees.

“And I'm sure she has something lame going on like... _extracurricular_ activities...”

“I guess.”

“...Or she's doing something nerdy. Like... a fucking puzzle. She said she does puzzles. WHO DOES PUZZLES?! Old women, that's who.” She grates, rolling her eyes and huffing.

Garnet sets her instrument down, helping herself to some of Amethyst's whiskey, undeterred as the shorter one continues her pointless monologue. 

“...Although... maybe, just maybe, she's the type of girl who likes to be chased?” She piques, returning her eyes to Garnet for some sort of confirmation. “Maybe she's like... lowkey sitting in her room waiting for me to bust in like a modern day genderbend Romeo.”

“Hmm.”

“Psh. I'm not chasin' no one. I'll let her come to me.” She declares, pointing to herself with a certain cockiness.

“Alright then.” Garnet offers, not at all convinced of her friend's decision.

“Besides, I just saw her yesterday. If I showed up now, she'd think I'm some kind of obsessive creeper. Gotta play it _coooool_ , G, you know what I'm sayin'?”

“I guess.” She replies with a shrug, finishing Amethyst's drink and crunching on one of the ice cubes.

Amethyst watches, squinting with a certain irritation. She's noticed that Garnet is doing that thing where she knows what's going to happen but doesn't say anything; staying silent and smug on the inside. Amethyst hates this. 

“...Urgh...piss off.” Amethyst grumbles, snagging her jacket off the stage in one swift movement, heading for the bar exit. 

Garnet grins behind her, satisfied by yet another accurate prediction.


	6. alone again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its like 007 infiltrating fort knox except 007 is a short sexy musician and fort knox is a college dorm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight Drinks is a fanwork intended for mature audiences only. If you are triggered by sex, drug abuse, violence, homosexuality, or pearlmethyst, you should probably hit the back button on your browser.
> 
> Quality checks performed by Badporl. If you find inconsistencies or errors, please message her. I do not edit my own works.
> 
> \---
> 
> Music for this chapter:
> 
> [Say You Will by Trails and Ways.](https://soundcloud.com/trailsandways/say-you-will) Music from Pearl's headphones.  
> [Place I Like To Go by The Easies](https://soundcloud.com/the-easies/place-i-like-to-go) Seven Questions game.  
> [To Be Alone With You by Sufjan Stevens.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dTc--0sZbrE) Makeouts.

The only reason Amethyst knows how to get to the campus is because she used to have friends who went there; but stopped talking to them at some point because they transferred colleges or just fell out of favor. If Pearl thought Amethyst's driving was bad enough during the day, then the night driving would probably send Pearl into cardiac arrest. Her iPod connected to her radio plays loud music; anything upbeat. She finds herself needing fast-paced, energetic music to keep her from wussing out of seeing Pearl. For some reason, the thought of seeing her again gives her mixed feelings; excitement and trepidation. Pearl seems like the type of girl who doesn't appreciate sudden drop-ins or impromptu occasions-- but hopefully she'll make an exception for Amethyst; since they DID get drunk and make out on her couch.

With the number of red lights she's run tonight, she's surprised she hasn't been pulled over yet. Then again, Amethyst has mysteriously good luck when it comes to getting what she wants. 

The time is 9:56 when she pulls into the campus. Since the last time she's been here, they've built two new dorm buildings; making a total of four now. She groans, slipping out of her truck. It's cold tonight, evident by her visible breath that dissipates in the air. For a few minutes, she leans against the front of her vehicle, struggling to decide where to begin her search. 

Then, it occurs to her that all she has to do is look for Pearl's car; a dumb baby-blue Prius. This is going to be easy. She cackles, meandering around each parking lot individually. Occasionally she'll pass a student, but goes unnoticed. Do they allow non-residents to just walk around at night? How would she know if she isn't a student anyways?

She probably should have dressed up a bit; given her current outfit she'll probably be mistaken for a drug dealer or a homeless person. A plain gray hooded sweatshirt, leather jacket, a shoddy pair of jeans and some worn-out leather boots. Then again, college kids walk around in their pajamas all the time so maybe she's just being paranoid. Security can't possibly be so tight that they'll stop anyone who looks unfamiliar or suspicious. 

It isn't until she reaches the third parking lot that she finally finds Pearl's nerdy car. Glancing around, she lazily wanders up to it, trying not to look suspicious as she peers inside for some kind of confirmation. Another groan escapes her throat; there's absolutely nothing inside. It's empty and clean. But she has to assume it's Pearl's; who else would drive a fucking Prius? She remains standing near the car, trying to gather the courage to actually go into the dorm building. 

“Are you locked out?” Comes a voice. Amethyst jumps, spinning around to see a random student standing several feet away.

She's about to say no, but then gets another idea. “Yeah man...I uh... totally spaced out and I left my key card and car keys in my room.” She lies, hoping that the kid will offer to let her into the building.

It goes as planned.

“That sucks man. I can let you back in. Do you have your actual room key, though? I think Rose is out at a party right now so if you're locked out you'll have to get an RA from another building..”

“Nah nah...I totally...got my room key.” She lies again, afraid that she'll say something that doesn't make sense or match up.

“Oh okay, cool. Come on then I was just heading in.”

“Rad.” Amethyst says grinning almost too comfortably. 

“I don't think I've ever seen you around here.” The kid says as they work up to the building. Amethyst inhales sharply quickly fabricating another lie.

“Eeeeehhh... I switched over from the other building because the room I was in had a... mold... problem.” She forges, doing a poor job of sounding legitimate. But the excuse seems to be believable, as there is no rebuttal from the stranger.

“So who's your roommate?”

Without thinking too hard, Pearl's name falls out of her mouth almost too eagerly. 

“You mean that pale tall chick who was in Swan Lake last year? Ahahaha... nice. But I'd watch out if I were you. I heard she's a real pain in the ass to have as a roommate.”

 _Swan Lake?_ Amethyst thinks to herself squinting. Is that some sort of play? Probably a ballet thing. “Really? That's news to me. Why is she an 'ass'?” She pries, actually getting excited over the slightest bit of gossip having to do with Pearl.

“Well, it's just like...rumors. Haha. I just hear that she's a mega neat-freak and goes to bed at like... 9 PM or something. And that with her last roommate she always filed complaints about 'noise' and having men in the room without her permission...lots of stuff about 'violating the roommate agreement'.” His voice trails off as they enter the building. “But I don't actually talk to her so I guess I wouldn't know... But a lot of guys I know say she's a prude.”

“Haha...yeah. She seems that way, from what I've seen.” She agrees, not exactly wanting to become to engaged in conversation with this kid. She looks around as she takes a few steps into the lobby. The main room has a couch, a few chairs, a coffee table, a reception desk, and two hallways that branch off in either direction. Each hallway probably has 7-8 dorm rooms on either side; and since the building has three floors that means Pearl could be in one of... 48 rooms. 

“Well, nice meeting you. Good luck with your roommate.” The kid says, grinning, leaving Amethyst in the lobby and disappearing down the right corridor. How frank. 

There's one student, seated behind the reception desk with some monitors that have camera feeds displayed. The so-called 'security' for the dorm is just a kid her age-- and they aren't doing a very good job watching cameras; their eyes are glued to a phone screen as they thumb around aimlessly. They look very dead inside. Must be all the college debt mixed with the stress of homework. Amethyst is suddenly thankful that she lives such a simple, debt-free life by comparison. 

She decides to check the west wing first, glancing to all the doors as she passes them. Names are posted on each one, indicating who lives where. The name tags are in the shape of flowers made from construction paper; the hall has a spring theme, likely slapped together by the RA's. None of them read Pearl, and when she reaches the end of the hallway there's a door with a staircase going up. She follows it, not wanting to pace back to the lobby and look suspicious. 

The next hallway, and the hallway after that show no sign of Pearl, either, and so it is on the third floor she makes her rounds, feeling slightly discouraged. 

And then, bingo. The last door on the east wing, a door with a single, solitary flower with the name Pearl written in the most pristine, fluent cursive that Amethyst has ever seen.

_What a nerd..._

A quick, trying jiggle of the door handle tells her that of course, its locked. 

Pearl, headphones in and focused on her laptop whilst sitting on the kitchen counter, fails to notice the door handle jiggling. Next to her, is her fourth hard cider. On the stove, a pot of hot water. She planned to make a small amount of unflavored rice, just to satiate the painful hunger she woke up from. She slept right through her second class, and is now, again, playing the game of catch-up. 

A rough knock at the door draws her away from her reading. She's never heard such loud knocking; Rose doesn't knock that way, and she's at Marty's anyways. She removes her headphones, quickly grabbing her hard cider and hiding it under the kitchen sink. 

As she stands before the door, swaying slightly from the alcohol, she hesitates to answer. Another round of knocking and she finally squeaks. “...Who is it?”

Amethyst is quick to joke around at the opportunity. She cups her hands around her mouth, leaning into the door and lowering her voice. “It's campus police. Open up, dirt bag!”

Pearl, not convinced, assumes this is a prank by one of the heterosexual white boys on her floor. 

“Uh-huh. Sure. Well, maybe some other time.” She says haughtily, turning to leave.

“Wait, wait! No, okay. It's me!” She says, abandoning the ruse quickly. 

“Is 'me', your name?” Pearl asks crudely, rolling her eyes.

“No, you fucking nerd, it's Amethyst. Don't be a dick.”

Pearl, shocked, doesn't move to open the door. “...Amethyst?” She stares at the door handle silently begging to be turned at the prospect of seeing the girl she'd been thinking about all day. She would be lying if she said she didn't pinch herself to see if she were conscious. 

“No, it's actually Donald Trump. I found you on boringpeoplematch.com and I'm here to take you on the most boring date of your life followed by extremely quiet, conservative and unsatisfactory sex.”

Pearl squints. Yep, that's her.

She opens the door, met with the very sly-looking musician. 

“Wh-what are you?? How did you??” She stammers, surprised and feeling suddenly excited.

Amethyst ignores the failed attempt at questioning, inviting herself into Pearl's dorm room. 

“Wow this is just as I imagined, tbh.” She says, examining the living room and kitchenette. “It's like you share a room with Martha Stewart.”

“Amethyst, what are you doing here?!” She asks after closing the door, staring at the other girl as if she were a mirage. 

“Mmm, welllll, you didn't show up at the bar, and I wanted your number.” She says, appearing disinterested. 

“You drove...all the way here... for my phone number.” She repeats in clear disbelief. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“So you just... came to get my number, and then leave?”

“Totally.” 

“...And what will you do with it if I give it to you?” She asks, now interested in baiting the girl. Pearl is taken aback by her own playful demeanor, but decides to follow through, regardless.

Amethyst catches on immediately, turning to the other with an impish smile. “Oh I dunno'... text you. Send you pics.”

“Interesting.” She piques working back over to the kitchenette and pulling her unfinished cider from under the sink. Amethyst immediately zones in on it.

“They let you drink on campus?” 

“I suppose they wouldn't if they knew about it.” She says, tired. 

“Wow. Such a rebel.” She teases, meandering straight up to Pearl and picking the cider from her hands. “You sure do like your drinks.” She adds, sitting up on the counter. 

Pearl narrows, feeling slightly soured at being stolen from. She watches, and Amethyst teasingly licks at the tip of the bottle while making direct eye contact. The taller girl blushes considerably, averting her gaze to the floor.

“So... what have you been up to?” Amethyst asks, sipping at her newly-obtained drink. 

“Ehh... homework.” She answers, suddenly depressed at the thought of returning to it. She turns to her laptop, looking at the daunting amount of text awaiting her. 

“Well, I think it's time for a break.” The musician suggests, with what Pearl identifies as a promiscuous sort of tone. Her stomach drops, wondering if Amethyst would be bold enough to try anything so soon. But at the same time, Pearl feels excited enough to play along. 

“I believe I agree with you.” Pearl says, mirroring Amethyst's manner. Wordlessly, she leaves the room to fetch another cider, but Amethyst follows, observing the apartment with genuine curiosity. It's clean, very much so. Everything is angled a certain way, aesthetically even. It's almost intimidating; she feels... like an intruder of sorts. Like she has no right to be here. 

But she brushes away the apprehension, entering Pearl's bedroom. The first thing she notices are the empty bottles, three of them, collected on the night stand. And her eyes scroll to Pearl as she grabs a fifth one. Does she usually drink this much?

“What's wrong?” Pearl asks, uncapping her drink and leaning against the bed. Her posture is slack, and she sways ever so slightly. She's going to be drunk soon, and Amethyst wonders if she should try to stop it from happening. 

“...Are you gonna give me your digits?” She says instead, drawing a bit closer so that she's standing in front of the girl; essentially entrapping her. 

“Hmm... I don't know yeeeeet.” She smiles. “Maybe I'm creeped out that you ssstalked me all the way here. Maybe I find it really uncomfortable how you infol..infiltrated the dorm to get to mme. Maybe I don't wanna' give you my numum-ber.” She slurs, taking a sip from her beverage.

“Sssssomehow I sssssseriously doubt that.” Amethyst drawls, swallowing hard and focusing on Pearl's lips; slightly parted and just begging to be put under arrest.

“Did you really just drive here for a dumb phone number? Hm?” She dabs, tempting Amethyst to play with her.

“What if I did?”

“I wouldn't believe that.” She says, scoffing and laughing lazily. 

“Then what did I come here for?” She asks, leaning in and locking eyes with Pearl. What is it about drunk chicks that she finds so tantalizing? She'd rather have Pearl be sober, but she simply can't resist the temptation to string the poor girl along with sexual tension and innuendos. The bed behind the taller girl is begging for action.

Amethyst shakes her head, trying to stave off her carnal urges. She wants to actually get to know this girl. Not just fuck her like the others. 

Pearl's breath is shallow, staring down at Amethyst with a torrid desire in her eyes. Just a few minutes ago, she was so bored, hardly registering the text on a laptop trying to catch up on missed material, and now she's cornered. Cornered and inebriated. 

She can't discern whether her thoughts are sober or drunk. Does she want to kiss Amethyst because of the alcohol, or because she's enamored by her with genuine affection? Is this courage her own? She forces herself to take a deep breath, trying to coax herself to sober up enough to resist her own drunken predilections. 

“I think you came here...because you missed me.” She lies, frozen in place. Amethyst's lips are like sirens, luring her to give in to temptation. Pearl shutters, drinking a desperate gulp from her cider too find the courage to keep up the charade of confidence. This struggle to be sober and drunk at the same time is confusing and maddening. 

“Did I?” Amethyst grins, brushing her fingertips over Pearl's thighs. 

Whatever remained of Pearl's sobriety disappears at the touch. Without taking her eyes away from Amethyst, she sets her drink on the bedside table. “If you want my number so bad, you'll have to work for it.”

 _“Si eso es lo que quieren jugar...”_ Amethyst lilts, grinning softly. Before Pearl can register whats happening, Amethyst lowers herself onto her knees, now eye level with Pearl's hips. When fingers make swift work of unbuttoning Pearl's jeans, she feels her heart drop into her stomach. She can't speak up, too dismayed at how quickly the situation has escalated. 

The dancer's anxiety levels skyrocket at what happens next. Amethyst takes the zipper pull between her teeth, dragging it down slowly. Pearl forgets how to breathe. Forgets how to think. 

Amethyst pushes the other's shirt up slightly, placing soft, open-mouth kisses over Pearl's exposed skin. Feeling like electricity, she shudders and her knees lock in place, refusing to move. 

At the moment Amethyst starts to tug her jeans downward is when it finally clicks for Pearl. Amethyst is going to give her oral. 

Pearl inhales sharply, slipping sideways to get away from the source of her sexual frustration. Her face flares a deep crimson as she evaluates the other girl, who remains on her knees.

Amethyst, confused, turns to look up at the flustered girl with a cocked brow. “Uh?”

“wh-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Pearl yells, stumbling into the bedside table and knocking the drink off. The bottle hits the floor, spilling cider into the carpet. She ignores this, too intoxicated and too shocked to care about messes. She grips her head, suddenly feeling light headed and dizzy.

“Whoa, calm down!” Amethyst panics, realizing that she'd made a mistake. “I just... I thought you were ...”

“You thought I wouLD GIVE YOU MY PHONE NUMBER IN EXCHANGE FOR ORAL SEX!?” She half yells, making haste to zip and button her pants back up.

Amethyst cringes at the sudden screaming, blinking several times and not quite understanding whats going on. “...it's not that big of a--”

“YES IT IS!”

“Lets just... lets calm down here.” Amethyst tries softly. Standing up off the floor but keeping her distance. “I didn't... I mean it seemed like you wanted to...”

“I don't want that! I mean... I don't know if I do, I-- I haven't d--”

Like a switch going off, Amethyst understands. Pearl hasn't had sex. Garnet was right.

“...Shit.”

“...Yeah.”

There's a silence that lasts for several seconds, each of them avoiding eye contact and trying to find the right words to say to fix the growing awkward tension.

“Seriously?” Amethyst asks, finding the idea of Pearl being a virgin to be utterly...impossible. She's gorgeous. Who WOULDN'T tap that?

“Is it so hard to believe?” Pearl murmurs, suddenly becoming self-conscious of the fact. 

“Yeah, actually. It is.” She admits, looking to the stain now forming in Pearl's carpet. 

“...Why?”

Amethyst scratches the back of her neck, not quite sure how to respond without sounding corny. “Uh... because you're hot?” She squints, regretting her choice of words. 

Pearl blushes considerably. “Oh...”

Abruptly, Pearl leaves the bedroom for a moment, returning with a towel in hand. As she tends to the spill, Amethyst works up to her, sitting beside her in quiet concession. 

“I haven't really...” Pearl starts, remaining focused on cleaning. “I haven't really... gotten close enough to anyone. Not enough for that kind of... stuff.”

“I'm sorry.” The musician responds, feeling guilty in her brash assumptions. “Well uh... okay. Let's just pretend it didn't happen then.”

Applying more pressure to the towel, Pearl contemplates for a moment. “I don't want to.”

“Huh?”

“I don't want to pretend.” She echoes. “Because even if it... scared me... I'd be lying if I said I didn't... want it.”

Amethyst snickers at this, pleased with the information. “What's so scary about it?”

For a while, Pearl doesn't honor a response. The question is hard to answer, as there are many reasons as to why 'sex' is scary. First of all, she's not too fond of her own body and hardly expects anyone else to find it pleasing to look at. That, and being touched in the most intimate places alone is just unsettling. Pearl understands that physical intimacy is hardly... a big deal-- but for her it is. Because she'd be exposing herself and her flaws to someone. 

The most painful thing that could happen is the other person being... disgusted and leaving. Pearl would hate to put time and effort into someone emotionally and have them leave or admit discontent in her bodily appearance. It all seems so petty; but for Pearl, her body is her biggest insecurity. Even if by some cosmic coincidence, someone found her body attractive, that doesn't necessarily imply that said someone would stay after the fact of willful exposure.

“Because my body is... me.” She murmurs, clenching the towel in her lithe fingers. “And I'm afraid of being used. I don't want to get close to someone like that unless it means something.”

Amethyst frowns. She can't help but relate to the girl. She herself has her own insecurities; but she's never really had meaningful sex, anyways. It's always been those drunk, rushed, sloppy one-night stands followed by awkwardly avoiding said person for several weeks. Emotional commitment is frightening, mostly because Amethyst hates opening up and sharing. But with Pearl there's just something different. She wouldn't mind opening up to her. She wouldn't mind taking things slow with Pearl. And she wants her to know this.

Unfortunately, Amethyst is horrible when it comes to words, and so the first thing to slip out of her mouth is “Sounds legit.” She immediately regrets this. “I-- I mean...I resp..I respect that.” She corrects, blushing.

Pearl looks up at her, though not seeming offended as Amethyst had anticipated; instead she seems relieved? Grateful? “Thank you.”

“Ehhh... it'snotabigdeal...” Amethyst mumbles, tracing invisible patterns into the floor with her index finger. 

When the stain has been tended to, Pearl swiftly stands up; earning a silent appreciation from the musician; she's very quick and lucid with her movements. Kind of entertaining to watch. She's light on her feet, her posture is perfect, and the way she moves is so fluid and rhythmic. Amethyst is undoubtedly enticed. 

While Pearl is out of the room, she decides to indulge her curiosity by looking around and taking in the sight of the bedroom. It's pretty small, but then again it is a dorm room. To Amethyst's back is a computer desk, in front of her is a really uncomfortable looking bed with a plain white comforter and pillows. There are just a few posters, all of them small and in reference to certain musicals and plays. Wicked, Wuthering Heights, Billy Elliot, Aida... Amethyst hasn't really heard of any of them but commits it to memory anyways. 

Her closet, also small, is organized in order of color; which Amethyst scoffs at with a smirk. Shoes are lined up beneath; she has a lot of them. 

A small bulletin board is above the computer desk, with a calendar marking dates for assignments. The calendar is ballet themed. A few pictures are pinned to the board, which immediately draws Amethyst's attention.

Most of them are of Pearl with some other girl; with unnaturally pink, curly hair. They look so happy. One of them has Pearl dressed in ballet wear; with the other girl holding her as they both laugh. Another is the two of them, standing in front of the college's signage, arms linked and looking very excited. The date in the corner indicates that it's two years old. And then another picture, Pearl giggling as she sits in the other girl's lap at a place that looks like a vineyard or something-- since they're both holding wine glasses. 

And then in the corner of the board, a picture of Pearl, sitting with an older woman who Amethyst immediately assumes is Pearl's mother. It looks professionally done, with a marble background and soft lighting. Pearl's smile looks a bit forced. 

And then another picture of Pearl, with the pink lady; which Amethyst especially likes because Pearl is wearing a pristine white bodice with delicate lace and feathers, looking somehow even more pale. A crown of pure white feathers adorn her head, and she looks absolutely perfect. It's hard to look away. In small handwriting below the photo it says 'Pearl Blanchett. 04/17/14. Swan Lake.'

Among the pictures are a few ticket stubs, one for Wuthering Heights, another for My Antonia, Faust, Rebecca, and Moulin Rouge. Again, Amethyst has no idea what any of them are and just mumbles the word 'nerd' under her breath.

“How am I a 'nerd'?” Comes a voice from behind her. Amethyst makes a small gasp, spinning around. 

“Urgh, creep much?!” She growls, looking up at the other girl; suddenly aware of the extreme height difference. 

“You drove for an hour to get here, snuck into the dorms, searched 3 floors for my room, showed up uninvited, drank my alcohol and tried to 'go down' on me. I think the creep here is you.” She jests, looking to Amethyst fondly, but still swaying slightly. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Don't you have homework to be doing?”

“Don't you have as number to be getting?” She challenges with a wry smile. 

“Then give it for fucks sake, and then I can be on my way and you can go back to being boring.”

“Hmmm...simply giving it over is too easy.” She decides out loud, gliding over to the bed and taking a seat.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” She groans, tugging at her hair in frustration. “It's JUST SEVEN DIGITS!” She yells, glancing around. Pearl's phone is on the nightstand; which she locks onto. 

Pearl follows Amethyst's focus, and sees the phone. And then it clicks that Amethyst will try to get the number off of the direct source. Pearl instinctively lunges for it, snatching it and holding it close to her chest and looking to Amethyst with a comfortably snide expression. 

Amethyst groans again. “Why are you making this so hard?!”

“Maybe I like challenging others.”

Amethyst rolls her eyes, hating the imbalance of power. “What do I have to do?” She sighs, leaning against the computer desk again. 

“Hmmm...” Pearl drawls, pondering what ludicrous number of things she could have Amethyst do. “Well...how about... since I know very little about you... I ask you seven questions. And every time you give a...satisfying answer, I'll give you one digit of the number.”

“Are you fucking kidding me. That's so high school!”

“Then I guess you're not getting anything. What a waste of a trip for you.” She sighs teasingly, leaning to the wall that her bed is placed against. She looks to Amethyst with an infuriatingly confident expression.

To even the odds, Amethyst takes the spot at the head of the mattress, knowing it would make Pearl at least a little bit nervous. “Fine then. Ask your dumb questions.” She grins, ignoring how hard and uncomfortable the bed is. 

Just as Amethyst expected, Pearl's moment of confidence is destroyed, and she goes back to being a tipsy and confused wreck. 

“Take your shoes off before climbing into my bed, heathen.” She seethes, trying to hold onto at least a little bit of control. 

“Urgh...” She drones, kicking her boots off and pushing them off the bed. She then looks to Pearl expectantly, waiting to begin her stupid game of inquiries. 

Pleased at her orders being followed, she begins. “Er... alright then. Um...well... first question... how old are you?”

Amethyst scoffs. “How boring. 22.”

“...Really?” Pearls asks, expecting her to be more like 18-19.

“Yeap.” She replies, folding her arms behind her head and leaning into the absurd amount of pillows on Pearl's bed. “Just turned last month.”

“Okay... then the first digit is two.”

Amethyst takes out her own phone, sliding open a new contact interface and popping the number two in. “A'ight. What else ya' got for me? And pleeeeeease try to make it interesting.”

Pearl grunts, squinting at the other girl sitting so comfortably on the bed. “Hnn...what's your favorite color?”

“The color your face turns whenever you're embarrassed or frustrated.” She says flatly, as if predicting such an obvious question. Pearl makes a disgruntled noise, becoming flustered. 

“Honestly...”

“Purple.” Amethyst admits, parting her legs ever so slightly and relaxing into the bed. “Do I get to ask YOU questions? Because I have WAY better stuff than colors and age.” She sighs, giving Pearl a look that she can't necessarily discern. 

“Zero” She states plainly. Amethyst adds it to her phone. “...What is your favorite drink?” She asks, with trivial irritation.

“You already know that! Screwdrivers. You just wasted a question.” She laughs, waiting for the third digit.

“Two.”

“Alrightttttt. Two-zero-two.” She repeats, sly and eager. “Can I suggest something for you to ask?”

“No.” She counters, moving onto the next.

Decidedly, she takes a more risqué approach; if not to satiate her own curiosity, but to try making Amethyst uneasy for once. For a moment she contemplates asking how many times she's had sex, but comes to to the conclusion that she'd rather not know; as she has a tendency to become irrationally jealous. 

“...What is your sexual...preference..?” Pearl finally asks, trying not to seem as eager as she feels. That wasn't exactly as an unsettling question as she'd planned, but she goes with it. 

“Pearl, I just tried licking your pu--”

“eeeeEEEUUUUHH-- ITS A YES OR NO QUESTION.” She screeches, finding Amethyst's forthcoming nature to be unsettling. 

Amethyst, confused, looks at Pearl with a brow cocked. “...No it's not? You asked me what my sexuality is. That's not something I can answer with a yes or a n--”

“ANSWER THE QUESTION.”

“OKAY OKAY! But like... okay.. does yes mean gay and does no mean straight? Does that make 'maybe' the answer for bi?”

“Just...tell me what your sexuality is.” She sighs, covering her face with her hands in intoxicated embarrassment.

“I'm gay as hell.” She says, giggling at the flustered girl before her. 

“One.” Pearl says without further commentary for her confusion. “Follow-up question. When did you... find out you were..?”

“Urgh these questions are gonna' put me to sleep, Pearl. I was like?? 15-16? Its not like it was some great fucking epiphany that slapped me in the face. I didn't just... wake up one morning and CRAVE PUSSY.”

“Six. Lose the attitude or you're going to have to guess what the final two numbers are.” She warns, trying to keep her vision from drifting and examining Amethyst's body.

Amethyst rolls her eyes for the hundredth time. “Fine, whatever.”

For a moment, Pearl's thoughts flutter, trying to make the last two questions count. What does she really want to know? Does she actually want to know anything? Or does she simply want Amethyst to work for it? To get a rise out of her? She bites her lower lip, failing to keep herself from appraising Amethyst. 

She looks... alluring. Inviting. Full lips slightly parted. That plain-gray hoodie under her leather jacket, despite covering Amethyst well, only manages to accentuate Amethyst's breasts, it follows Amethyst's curves almost perfectly. Hands behind her head in an encouraging display. Legs spread, leaving space for Pearl to invite herself on top and... and nothing. No. Bad thoughts. She shakes her head, realizing that Amethyst is expecting the next question.

Without giving it proper thought, the next question falls from her lips. “Have you ever been in love?” _Shit._ She regrets asking immediately, and she doesn't want to know the answer. But it's too late to retract it; not without betraying whatever is left of her self-assured exterior. 

Amethyst seems unfazed by the prompt; in fact she looks bored with only minor intrigue. A single eyebrow raises. “Mmm... I'm not sure yet.” She says with an aloof smile. 

“Hrrmm..” Pearl blooms, feeling a heat return to her face and looking down at her knees. 

“Hey I answered. What's the next number?” Amethyst prods, gently knocking Pearl's foot with her own. 

“Oh... uh. Nine.” She murmurs, realizing that her grip on the phone is tightening. Is it nerves? She swallows, shutting away the hesitation and proceeding to her final question. 

“If you could do anything right now, without consequence... what would it be?” 

Amethyst, noticing the painfully obvious crimson in Pearl's cheeks, decides that she wants to further the already flustered girl in front of her by providing an intimate, but nonetheless honest answer. 

“I'd kiss you.” She replies softly, eyes trained on Pearl, awaiting even the smallest reaction. 

“Hhhhhnn...” The dancer whines, hiding her face behind her hands. Amethyst can't help but chuckle a little. 

“You're really cute when you're embarrassed.” She adds, enjoying the display.

It takes a while for Pearl to regain her senses, trying to calm the heat in her face while becoming aware of the heat elsewhere between her legs. When she finally looks up at Amethyst, she's relieved to see her unexpended in the same spot; relaxed into the bed and completely lethargic. 

...Is it really a relief? Or a disappointment? It's hard to tell anymore. 

Pearl finds herself leaning forward, but catches herself before she can get too far, wondering if it'd really be appropriate to kiss the other girl while on a bed. Amethyst notices this subtle movement, comprehending the girl's shunted impulse, and decides to see if she can lure Pearl in further. She leans up from the pillows, observing Pearl's reactions with silent intensity. The dancer tenses up marginally, noticing the diminishing space between them. 

When Amethyst stops moving forward, Pearl is emphatically disappointed. And for a while the small space between them remains stagnant, neither of them taking the initiative to progress. 

She's nervous. The tight feeling in her throat and chest is undeniable. But with this great trepidation comes even greater desire. She looks to Amethyst's lips, begging for contact. With shaky hands, Pearl grips onto Amethyst's thighs, silently pressing forward to her goal. Amethyst returns the gesture, moving closer to finally end the horrible anticipation. 

Their lips meet for but a moment before pulling away. Each of them finding the experience to be completely different from the last time they kissed. This feels more... electrifying. Pearl's breath shudders, becoming completely heated and returning her lips to Amethyst's. Gently pushing and ebbing their mouths over the other, exploring with a certain virginal excitement. For Pearl, it's the closest thing to a sober kiss she's ever had, and for Amethyst it's possibly the least ulterior; just kissing for the sake of it rather than doing so in the midst of sexual act with a stranger. 

Pearl shifts forward, bringing herself to lie on top of Amethyst as steady as possible, refusing to break the kiss. For a second, Amethyst's cold nose ring brushes over Pearl's skin, earning a quieted shiver. Hands come onto Pearl's waist, only slightly pulling her sweatshirt up so that she can delight herself of the soft, pallid skin of her back. 

A breathy moan escapes Pearl, brushing over Amethyst's lips tentatively. Her touch is charged, encouraging Pearl to kiss harder. Her own hands come up to the frame Amethyst's face, caressing her jaw and neck passionately. 

The musician comes undone under Pearl's touch, having never felt such eloquent intimacy. She gently rakes her fingernails up Pearl's spine, guiding their bodies to push closer. Before Pearl can even grasp her own actions, her hips roll against Amethyst's in static desire. The shorter girl tenses up, trying to restrain herself from doing anything too precarious; but those hips moving against her are too tempting to ignore. She grips Pearl by the waist, pulling her closer and rolling her own hips to generate more friction. 

Pearl's phone makes a noise, indicating a message, which the both of them ignore in the midst of their passion. The dancer is too focused on the lips between her own to care about anything else. She bites Amethyst's lip playfully at first, tugging and lapping her tongue over it faintly, driving Amethyst crazy. The shorter girl groans, biting back harder and holding the lip until Pearl whines. 

“Mhhhmm... don't be mean.” Pearl murmurs, kissing Amethyst softer this time. 

“You're the one being mean. You still haven't given me the last number.” She sneers, nipping at Pearl's lip again with unreasonably sharp teeth. The tall girl shudders, dragging her pelvis against Amethyst's slowly for a teasing reprimand. 

“No biting.” She whispers, licking Amethyst's lips and treading her nails against her neck as if in warning. Amethyst's heart skips a beat; and she groans at the urge building between her legs. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” She challenges, ignoring the demand and biting Pearl's lower lip again. The phone goes off, twice this time. 

“I won't give you the last number.” She replies haughtily, pressing her middle and ring fingers over Amethyst's lips.

A sly grin reappears over the musician's face, as if taking the threat as a challenge. For a few seconds they just look into each other, trying to come to grips with the sexual energy that's already reaching a tipping point. Pearl can feel her heartbeat in her throat, and what makes this worse is Amethyst pushing her tongue out to lick at Pearl's fingertips; slow and suggestive-like. 

The phone buzzes again, still earning no response from either of them. 

“I bet I can get that number out of you.” She drawls, planting a soft kiss against Pearl's fingers before licking them again. 

Pearl stammers, unable to form any kind of come back. “I--”

And then, like last time, a knock at the door interrupts their escapade.

“Are you fucking KIDDING me?” Amethyst groans, dropping her head backwards into the pillows in defeat. Then the phone goes off, this time with a call instead of a message. Pearl shakes herself away from her sexual inertia, reaching for the phone and seeing 'Rose' on the screen. Should she answer? She's at a party, and Pearl doesn't feel much like interrupting the moment with the girl lying beneath her, frustrated and turned on.

She sets the phone on the nightstand, and after a few more rings, it stops. 

Intrigued by this act of passive-ignorance, Amethyst grins up at Pearl. “Not gonna take that?”

“Mmm... no.” She replies, leaning back down to kiss Amethyst again. 

Their kiss doesn't last long, however, as the sound of Pearl's living room door opening pulls her away from the action. 

“Oh no!” Pearl whispers, pushing up off of Amethyst and spinning her head to look out the bedroom door. 

“You said you didn't have a roommate!” Amethyst clamors; Pearl doesn't respond.

Rose appears in the living room, immediately stopping in her tracks and locking eyes with Pearl. There's an awkward, silent tension. 

Pearl, perched on top of Amethyst, clearly having been in the middle of something indecent. Beer bottles present on the bedside table. Pearl has been caught doing everything she wasn't supposed to be doing; and this feeling is akin to being caught by your mother out passed curfew. 

She fucked up.


	7. bad habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if you've ever watched an episode of the OC you'll understand exactly what level of frustration i'm aiming for here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight Drinks is a fanwork intended for mature audiences only. If you are triggered by sex, drug abuse, violence, homosexuality, or pearlmethyst, you should probably hit the back button on your browser.
> 
> Quality checks performed by Badporl. If you find inconsistencies or errors, please message her. I do not edit my own works.
> 
> \---
> 
> Music for this chapter:
> 
> [Decent Days and Night by The Futureheads.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9PYgCN2kIsg)  
> [Specialist by Interpol.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z-uAqOVCLME)  
> [Panic Attack by The Vaccines.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uo5tjVTl_Lc)  
> [What Went Down by FOALS.](https://soundcloud.com/foals/foals-whatwentdown)

Pearl shimmies off of Amethyst, landing shakily on her feet and facing Rose as she enters the bedroom. Amethyst remains on the bed, evaluating the tension.

“Pearl... what are you doing with alcohol in the dorms? You know it's prohibited...”

Pearl fumbles for a response, but comes up with nothing. She looks behind her at the empty bottles, as if they would provide her an answer or a quick lie.

“They're mine.” Amethyst interjects lazily. Pearl switches her gaze to Amethyst, shocked at the profession. She then looks to Rose, expecting another reprimand.

“You brought alcohol into the dorms?” How did you get it past security?”

“Uh, no offense, but your 'security' is really terrible.” Amethyst bites, rubbing one of her eyes as if tired. “Seriously, the kid had his nose pressed against his phone the whole time.”

“Well... regardless of the fault of security, it is still against the rules. Is this all of it?” She asks, looking to the empty bottles. 

“Yeap.” She lies. 

Rose, still disappointed, turns her focus onto Pearl.

“Did you let her in knowing that she had them in her possession?”

Pearl swallows hard, feeling dismayed and hopeless. “I...I don't. I didn't know sh--”

“She didn't even know I was here until I was at her door, yo.”

“Then who let you into the building?” Rose questions, crossing her arms and evaluating the stranger.

“I dunno'? Some kid in the parking lot?" She shrugs.

“Hmmm...”

“Rose, please.” Pearl tries, raising her hands slightly in self-defense.

“Pearl, you know the rules. I can't... I can't make exceptions, even for friends...” She frowns, looking between the two of them and coming to the conclusion that the strange girl on Pearl's bed is the drummer from Pearl's drunken adventures. “Unfortunately... I'll have to ban you from the dorms for 2 weeks.” She states, looking to Amethyst with a look of sympathy. “And you'll receive one mark on your residence record...” She adds, turning her gaze on to Pearl.

“Okay...”

“Yo, why does she have to get punished for what I did? She didn't know I had the alcohol.” Amethyst argues, not quite raising her voice.

“Because, she knows the rules. She should have stopped you from opening and consuming them. I'm sorry, I don't make the rules I just have to enforce them. I personally don't have an issue with this... I just can't afford to lose my position.”

Amethyst rolls her eyes, finding the situation to be ridiculous but keeps her mouth shut, having already done enough to take the blame to save Pearl from... whatever weird punishment she'd receive. These two seem to have a... weird friendship. Rose acts more like Pearl's mom than an actual friend. She glances to the pictures on the bulletin board, depicting a happy, seemingly healthy friendship and then to the present form; seeming more like a mother rebuking a child.

“Pearl... I thought you said you weren't... relapsing.” Rose says softly. Not caring that there's a stranger in the room. The color drains from Pearl's face immediately; mostly because she doesn't want Amethyst to be too aware.

“Rose...” Pearl fumes, too frustrated to form anything coherent. 

“Right, well... this is getting weird. I'm gonna go.” Amethyst cuts in, hopping off the bed and slipping her boots on. Pearl is immediately saddened by her announcement. 

“Before you leave, the front desk will need to take a photo of you.” Rose declares, earning a small glare from Pearl. For some reason, she doubts if she would give Greg the same treatment if she caught him doing something 'wrong'. Pearl is definitely bitter.

“Urgh... yeah whatever.” Amethyst complies, shoving her hands into her pockets and moving past the two of them; without giving Pearl so much as a twitch of eye contact. Rose gives Pearl a look, as if telling her to 'wait', before following Amethyst.

* * *

In the 1st floor lobby the kid at the security desk, who is still just mindlessly playing around on their phone, looks up, being greeted by Rose and another girl.

“Sup Rose?” He asks, setting down the phone and leaning back. Amethyst is admittedly surprised at how fucking chill he is. She's pretty sure that an active shooter could come in, swinging guns and flying bullets and this kid would literally have no fucks to spare.

Rose smiles, inviting herself behind the desk and retrieving a folder from one of the desk drawers, handing it to the security guard. “I need you to fill out an incident report, unfortunately.”

“Wow, first one this year.” The kid replies. “What's the 411?”

“Alcohol infraction.” She says simply, still wearing that sickeningly sweet smile. “I'll be the witness for the report.” Rose explains, putting a hand on Amethyst's shoulder, as if to prevent her from running.

“Haha, you should know the rules by now, girly.” He says, looking to Amethyst. 

“I don't even live here dude. Chill.” She says flatly, unamused by his half-baked grin. What is it about white boys that take her from 0 to 100 in irritation?

“Oh... uh. 'Kay.” He replies, getting the hint from Amethyst's tone. He opens the folder, pulling out a blank form and starting to write down mundane things like date, time, names and location. “What room was this in?”

“307.” Rose supplies. 

“And name of the... 'offender'? He reads from the form, sounding confused at the very question. 

Amethyst gives her own name, assuming that Rose probably doesn't know it.

“Last name?” He returns, not looking up from the paper.

“Chavez.”

“How do you spell that?”

“Oh for fucks sake...” Amethyst sighs. “C-h-a-v-e-z.”

“Okay... and uh... date of birth?”

“Is this really necessary? Can't you just take my fuckin' picture?”

“Amethyst, please try to calm down. It's just procedure.” Rose says, looking down at her with an unreasonably serene expression. 

It makes Amethyst uncomfortable; like there's something hidden behind that sweet face.

After deliberating for a moment, she finally responds. “February 14th...1993”

She can tell, for a fraction of a second, that the kid was going to make a remark about her birthday being on Valentine's day, but the idea is quickly squelched, probably from fear of Amethyst's increasingly frail patience. 

“I'll fill out the incident description. You can take her photo. Has anyone showed you where the camera is?” Rose asks, taking the form gently.

“No, is it in the office?”

“Yes. Here's the key.” She says, pulling a keyring out of her jacket and handing it over. “It's in the bottom drawer in the cabinet under the mail boxes. Have her stand against the section of wall near the campus map. Oh, and make sure the flash is off.” Rose finishes, taking out her own, pink pen and beginning to fill in the blanks. Amethyst squints, trying to figure out who exactly this chick is and what kind of 'relationship' she has with Pearl.

The kid hesitates, watching the two of them; observing the awful glare Amethyst is giving Rose and swallowing dryly. “If you'll... come this way.” He mumbles, getting Amethyst's attention. She looks back to Rose one more time while she fill out stupid paperwork, then proceeds to follow the runty-white boy down the hallway to the office.

“Yo...” Amethyst starts while he fumbles around, trying to find which key fits the lock. There are at least 10 keys on the ring Rose handed him.

“Hrrmm?” He responds, trying not to seem as flustered as he looks.

“What's going on with that Rose chick and Pearl?”

The kid laughs, trying the third key on the ring. “Your guess is as good as anyone's.”

“What does that mean?” Amethyst drives, piqued by the obscurity of his answer.

“Exactly what I said.” He replies, switching to another key. His tone seems to be regaining that aloof sort of confidence.

“Are they just friends?”

“Uh... I think so? I mean... they act really weird... spend a lot of time together. I heard rumors about a year ago that they... y'know.”

“No. I don't know.” Amethyst says, getting impatient already. “What kind of rumors?”

“I-- I mean, well... they spend a lot of time together. Alone. And I dunno'? Don't they seem a little too 'touchy-feely' in public? Like holding hands and linking arms and all that stuff? Seems pur-retty... gay.” He explains, now grinning as he tries the 6th key. The door unlocks, finally. 

“And the rumors?” Amethyst tries again, disliking the sudden implication of anything beyond friendship between Pearl and anyone. 

“Well I heard that at a party last year, after the performance of Swan Lake, there was this party thing off campus...”

“...Yeah?” Amethyst baits, watching the kid now search the cabinet drawers. 

“And I heard that Pearl kissed her. Which is like... hot and stuff, right? But at the same time It's sort of weird when you think about how long they've known each other. Freaks me out a bit.” He admits, but still giving that irritating white-boy snicker at the end. “Like... like sisters kissing. But you didn't hear that shit from me.” He adds quickly, withdrawing a digital camera. 

Amethyst can feel her heart skip a beat; and not in the good way. So... if Pearl did kiss Rose, then does that mean... they're together? And that Pearl was cheating on Rose with Amethyst in a way? That would explain why Rose just entered the room instead of leaving. Maybe she invites herself in all the time because... because they're together. Either way, this news is upsetting, and she hardly notices when her picture is taken. 

“Haha... do you wanna retake that? You look stoned as hell.” He says, looking to Amethyst. He garners no response. “Nevermind... it'll only be posted up at the desk for two weeks anyways. Sooo... what kind of alcohol did you smuggle in?”

Amethyst ignores the question, leaving the office without consideration for protocol of needing an escort. As she works her way back into the lobby, she is greeted by Rose, clicking her pen with finality and pocketing the utensil. The kid catches up, muttering things about 'you can't wander off without a resident'. 

“I'll see you out.” She says airily, as if there were nothing wrong going on here. 

“I got it.” Amethyst growls, pocketing her hands and heading to the exit. The very sight of Rose already gives her a sickening, used sort of feeling. And thoughts of Pearl kissing her are just as depressing. Sure, it's petty to be upset over what someone did in the past, but it just rubs Amethyst wrong. This whole experience has been awkward.

A hand catches her by the shoulder.

“Unfortunately, it's part of procedure. I have to make sure you leave the campus.” Rose insists, looking to Amethyst with yet another unreadable smile. 

“Whatever...” 

. . .

In the awkward atmosphere of her apartment, Pearl drops her empty bottles into the trash, knowing that as soon as Rose finishes her business with Amethyst, she'll come back to have a 'heart to heart' conversation about her resurfacing 'drinking problem'. 

Pearl finds Rose's constant prying and worrisome behavior to be... ludicrous. Pearl is an adult... alcohol is such a small issue compared to the other problems campus residents have. Shouldn't she be focusing on that instead of mothering Pearl so aggressively?

She splays out on the bed, cocking her head to look to the bulletin holding the many pictures of her and Rose. Things used to be so simple. Then again, the progression into adulthood is anything _but_ simple. It marks the beginning of the end of innocence, or so she believes. The photo of her from last year, after her performance in Swan Lake, stands out among the rest. It was an impromptu photo, taken by Greg. Pearl remembers hating how it turned out because she didn't know it was being taken, thus the strange hand gesture and dazed expression she is making in the picture. 

Pearl is relatively level headed. She knows that she has a drinking problem, but fails to find the issue with it. She only drinks in the privacy of her apartment; the night at the bar being an exception. She absolutely detests making a fool of herself while intoxicated, therefore she avoids social drinking at all costs. 

Then it hits her. 

She didn't give Amethyst the last digit in her phone number. 

Dammit...

. . .

“It's nothing personal...” Rose says, walking Amethyst up to her truck. 

Amethyst can't help but feel cheated somehow. Wondering if Rose and Pearl are closer than she was lead to believe.  
She opens door to the truck, moving to get in before a hand is placed over her shoulder again. 

“Amethyst?”

“Urgh, what?” She broods, spinning around to look up at the abnormally tall woman. 

“Pearl is... troubled.” She puts carefully, pulling her hand away and folding them in front of her. “She's really come so far in the last year, I don't... I don't think it'd be a good idea to give her alcohol right now.” 

“Tch, what are you? Her mom? If she didn't want to drink then she wouldn't.” Amethyst says frankly, pocketing her hands in her jacket.

Rose simply sighs, adorning a look of concern. “I'm just concerned for her. She's easily manipulated and easily persuaded. And that includes dipping into dangerous or unsafe behaviors. I guess you could say...she's...impressionable.”

“So what? You sayin' I'm a bad influence?”

“Of course not.” She denies, maintaining a cool exterior in contrast to Amethyst's riled-up mood. “I'm glad she's made... a friend. But I'm just asking you to... be careful.”

“She can take care of herself. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous.” Amethyst baits, now directing her brooding gaze upon the other.

“You've only known Pearl for a day or two; you have no idea what kind of effect alcohol has on her. You don't know where she's been or what she's done.”

“I don't need to know that junk to give her a good time, so why don't you get off my back, huh?” 

Rose sighs, finding this conversation to be exhausting already; and yet she still has another one to have with Pearl after this. 

“Look, Pearl doesn't need any negative...peer pressure, right now... she's been through a lot. And for a while, she seemed to be doing so well. I'd really hate for her to pick up old habits. If you really care about her like I do, you'll... at least stop encouraging her or enabling her to drink.”

Amethyst rolls her eyes. “She doesn't need 'encouraging'. She's gonna do whatever she wants. And honestly, the way you talk about her is weird. You don't seem like her friend. What are you? Her girlfriend? Ex? Are you jealous that she's found someone else?” She leers, gripping her car keys harshly.

“You hardly know who she even is, Amethyst. I'm just trying to help you understand that Pearl is not healthy and that you need to be careful. You're twisting my intentions.”

Amethyst exhales with a reserved anger. “You're basically assuming that I'm a walking alcoholic who's on a mission to mess her up. It's just a little alcohol! Seriously!”

“I'm not assuming anything. But you have to admit that it's pretty weird that you came all the way here, snuck into a private building, and avoided proper procedure just to visit a girl you met at a bar; with alcohol in tow, no less. It's not my business what Pearl does with her personal life, but I am just trying to look out for her best interests.” Rose explains, feeling less and less sure about herself. 

“Best interests? Hm? Are YOU in her best interest?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.” Rose says frankly. “She has... problems that you have no concept of. I do. And I know what she needs.”

Amethyst glowers up to the stranger, at a loss for comebacks. “Alright then, fine!. You can have her. But for the love of fucking god, get a grip on that awful 'mommy' kink you got goin' on. It's really fuckin' creepy.” She says finally, opening the door to her truck and climbing in. 

Rose brings a hand to her forehead, deciding it'd be pointless to continue. Instead, she turns to leave, not even bothering to wave goodbye. 

The truck door slams.

* * * 

“I may have overreacted.” Amethyst admits with the slightest hint of shame. She sets down her whiskey on top of a speaker. It's the next evening, two hours after Amethyst has gotten off of work and in the time that has passed since her 'conversation' with Rose, Amethyst has gone over it a million times, wondering if maybe... just MAYBE she was in the wrong and should have listened to her.

“Mm.” Is all Garnet offers as she tunes her guitar. 

“But I mean-- SHE WAS ACTING SO WEIRD. No one acts that way for a friend! She's more like a... mom or a really nosey aunt. It's freaky!” Amethyst half yells, reaching for her own guitar and strumming it a few times. She walks along the stage, hopping onto one of the bar tables; it shakes a little and comes to a stop. Garnet watches her friend, amused by the small tantrum unfolding. 

“I mean, shit Garnet. Things were going so rad. We were makin' out on her bed." She explains, hitting a few chords for emphasis. "Gettin' pretty saucy.” Amethyst strums the guitar some more, this time with more rage. “And then... her FRIEND CAME IN LIKE A PUUUUUSSY-BLOOOOOCK!” She yells to the tune of _Wrecking Ball_ , erratically thumbing the strings on her guitar in a less than pleasant melody. It garners the attention of the few patrons who've started to flood into the bar. 

She spins around on the table, facing Garnet. 

“Urgh... I bet she's already told Pearl about how big of a jerk I am!” She whines, face-palming. 

“You could apologize.” Garnet offers, inviting herself to some of Amethyst's whiskey. One of the perks of performing at this bar is free drinks (up to a certain point, as Amethyst discovered). 

“No! No way! I was in the right... I think!” Amethyst says huffily. “I'm not apologizing for shit. That... Rose chick is being too controlling. I mean... yeah. You know what. I'm done venting. If that bitch wants Pearl all to herself, then what-ev-errrr.” 

The bartender yells from behind the bar, telling Amethyst to get off the table. She does so, but with an unnecessary amount of sass. 

“Does this mean you'll want to play more angry music tonight?” Garnet asks bluntly, knocking back the last of the whiskey. 

Amethyst scoffs. “Psh. No...” She then plays a few somber chords. “Maybe... but since we're on the subject, I'll be leaving at seven tonight. I'll be back at like...nnnine....ish... for the last two sets.”

“Mmm. Caging tonight?”

“You guessed it.” Amethyst confirms, mirroring Garnet's alcohol robbery and stealing her amaretto. “You know me so well.” She sighs lazily with a shoddy grin. 

“Then you won't mind me asking Greg to come fill in.” Garnet replies, unfazed by the stolen drink. 

“Eh, do whatever ya' want. I thought you preferred doing things solo.” Amethyst admits, swallowing the drink in just three gulps. 

“I kind of feel like backseating tonight.” She admits. “Didn't get much sleep last night.”

“Aw man. Again?” Amethyst asks, acquiring a look of concern. “What's with that?”

“No idea.” Garnet says simply, setting down the electric guitar and taking up the keytar instead. 

Amethyst frowns, wondering if it's her place to ask if something is wrong; but despite knowing Garnet for so long, she remains mysterious. It's not easy to approach her about her personal issues. She lets the subject slide, laying the glass on the edge of the stage. “I can skip the caging tonight if you want.” She offers, trying not to seem too concerned. 

“No, it's okay. I know you need it.” She grins, knowing that her friend has her own way of dealing with turbulent emotions. 

“Aw. Thanks, G.”

Garnet picks up her phone, sending off a brief text to Greg that says 'fill in'. She's as to-the-point in text as she is in verbal conversation. 

“So. Are you done seeing her then?” Garnet asks plainly, giving the bartender a look that communicates 'another drink'. He typically acquiesces the request when there aren't a lot of customers that need tending to. He waves to her in lackadaisical acknowledgment.

Amethyst sighs, not exactly knowing the answer herself; but fabricates one anyways. “I guess. I mean... I don't wanna hang around a chick who has a possessive pissbaby mom-friend.” She leers, feeling riled again once more over the thought of Rose.

“That's too bad.” Garnet poses, seating herself on the edge of the stage. 

“Tell me about it.” 

* * *

Fortunately, Pearl doesn't have to close at work tonight. 'Fortunate' because she really has no patience for anything today, especially imbecilic customers. Being interrupted last night by Rose, and then being reprimanded as if she were a child is bothering her more and more as time wears on. It's almost as if Rose thinks Pearl is incapable of staying morally correct or mature. And to add insult to injury, in the dorms at the lobby security desk, a very dazed photo of Amethyst is hung up for everyone to see. 

And since gossip travels fast in the dorms, everyone knows that Amethyst had apparently 'brought alcohol' and tried getting Pearl drunk. She can hardly get to her room without being stopped by nosey residents; mostly congratulating her and telling her she knows how to have a good time; all of them being obnoxious white boys. She shutters to think of how many residents get off to the idea of Pearl having raunchy lesbian sex with a stranger. She absolutely detests being in the spotlight; it's what she avoids the most, unless it's on stage during performance. Otherwise, she'd prefer keeping to the background. 

She gets off work at 9:30, and her immediate thought is to stop by the bar so she can apologize to Amethyst. She feels awful about how Rose interrupted such a... good time. But before she leaves the store, she's determined to change out of her work clothes because A. She hates the way she looks in khakis, and B.) She may or may not have prepared an outfit just for the occasion of seeing Amethyst tonight. 

She's confused as to what kind of relationship she has with Amethyst; there's too many 'statuses' for relationships anymore. Friends with Benefits? Dating? 'Seeing Each other'? Girlfriends? Going Steady?? Apparently there's a difference between them all, and Pearl would rather just ignore labels altogether. All she knows is that she's excited to see Amethyst and that she's practically all Pearl can think about. 

She quickly changes into simple navy blue v-neck sweater and black leggings, with her favorite boots, which also happen to be the most expensive; fortunately her mother bought them. And soon she is on the road.

. . .

The thought of seeing Amethyst at the end of a long day is comforting. Despite the less than safe-feeling atmosphere of the parking lot, Pearl feels at ease once she's arrived at the bar. The level of excitement inside her is something she's slightly ashamed of; as if she were a teenaged girl again, getting worked up over a crush. She can hear loud music, pulsing within the building. 

The lighting that casts against the windows are a deep red; giving Pearl an exhilarating sense of danger. 

Entering the bar, she's greeted with a much larger crowd than on Monday; then again, it is Thursday. The weekend is like night time, the bar is the moon, and the wolves come to drink, or howl...or whatever. Pearl rolls her eyes, finding her poetic observations to be embarrassing and dumb. Amethyst's voice echoes in her head, calling her a nerd.

As expected, Amethyst and her friend are on stage, seemingly in the middle of a break between songs and having idle chit chat with audience members. There's a third member in the band, and Pearl has to double-take... no, triple-take at who it is. 

It's... Gregory. She is quickly horrified. What is GREGORY doing with AMETHYST?! She quickly ducks into an empty booth, needing a moment to come to terms with the ungodly coincidence that has boiled up through the earth's crusts from the deepest pits of hell. 

To her dismay, Greg spots her, waving at her with that disgustingly obnoxious grin, which in effect, draws Amethyst's gaze as well. Pearl sinks into the booth, hiding her face behind a shoddy, laminated bar menu. This doesn't deter anything from happening.

“Yo, Pearl. I didn't know you went to bars!” Comes Greg's voice. Pearl can feel her body approaching meltdown. If Greg tells Rose that he saw her here, she'll only get scolded even more.

“I uh... wh... well... what are YOU doing here?!” She snaps quickly, not only in attempt to turn the conversation, but find answers as to WHY he has ANYTHING to do with the girl she's currently... pursuing?? Interested in? Fond of? 

Greg backs away at the sudden outburst, admittedly frightened by her raise in voice. “Oh, uh. I play with the band here sometimes. Nice way to earn some cash money.” He grins, looking back to Amethyst and Garnet. Pearl takes the opportunity to observe Amethyst, but she's seemingly focused on tuning her guitar. It's hard to tell in the haze of cigarette smoke, but she looks bit... rough. More-so than usual. “Do you wanna meet the band?” Greg asks, pulling Pearl's attention back reluctantly.

“I uh.. no... that's okay. I... I'm fine.” She mutters, pretending to scan the menu. She is extremely tempted by her usual vodka-tonic. 

Greg frowns, as if knowing that Pearl is somewhat unsettled, but beings as he doesn't know her too well, decides to drop the subject. 

“Okay, well, hopefully you stick around. We have a few good songs. Oh, wait, what am I saying-- they're ALL good songs.” He explains, flipping his hair in a dramatic fashion that makes Pearl cringe with inherent disgust. 

“Oh... I don't know, I'm not... feeling too well all of the sudden.” She lies, avoiding eye-contact with a feverish strike of nervousness. On one hand, she fears of Rose finding out, and on the other, she's sickened with the unknown of how Greg and Amethyst know each other. 

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Uh... here.” He says awkwardly, rummaging in his jeans pocket and producing a wad of cash; they're mostly 1's and 5's. “Have a drink on me.” He offers with another grin, though admittedly more tolerable than the others. He lays the money on the table.

“Oh no.. that's not... you don't have to...” She stops, wondering if he knows at all about her... past problems. Maybe Rose hasn't divulged it to him. She is admittedly thankful that him and Rose aren't THAT close. “Thank you...” She replies. 

He pats pearl on the back a bit too harshly; and she almost growls in response but decides that free alcohol is enough to forgive the moment of physical contact. 

Greg returns to the stage, striking up conversation with Amethyst, who Pearl hones in on. She's definitely worse-for-wear. In fact... when she moves her head every so slightly, she notices faint bruising under her left eye, which is cleverly hidden behind swept bangs. Pearl is immediately concerned; but can do nothing, as they get ready in setting up for their next song. 

Amethyst and Greg, to Pearl's chagrin, twin up on the guitars, while Garnet takes the drums. The acoustics in the building are awful, and the first few chords that are played reverberate through Pearl's body, making her feel sick for a moment. But after a few adjustments on the speakers, the sound becomes more bearable. The song is... different, and not just because Amethyst and Greg are singing in tandem. 

_You make me lose my buttons, oh yeah, you make me spit_  
I don't like my clothes anymore  
We're spending time and money, yeah, you're colder than yourself  
Now we're moving, now we're taking control 

Throughout their performance, Pearl can't help but make the disgusting observation that Greg and Amethyst are similar in appearance; with their unkempt hair, tattered clothes and raspy voices. She wonders if this could mean anything deeper, but prefers to avoid thinking about it too much. 

The way Amethyst plays the guitar is... somehow fascinating. The way the guitar rests against her hips, the lethargic way she splays her fingers over the chords, and the tired, dazed look on her face when she's really into the music. It's... admittedly a turn-on. And the red lighting in the bar only furthers her aroused observations. 

_If I get there early, will it be the right time?_  
Our heaven is just waiting so put your hand into mine  
If I get too surly, will you take that in stride?  
Our boat is just there waiting so put that little hand in mine 

She retrieves a vodka-tonic from the bar, per Greg's generous donation. This time there's a lime in it, which she finds charming. She decides to skip going back to the booth, moving closer to the stage and leaning against a wall; which is preferable since the cigarette smoke seems palpable in this part of the bar. Watching from the sidelines gives Pearl a better look at Amethyst's face. 

That's definitely a black-eye. And there are two or three bruises on her upper arm from where Pearl can observe. She's extremely concerned; wondering if something happened after she left the dorms last night.

 _You're acting on initiative_  
You're spelling out your love  
You shouldn't be alone in there  
You could be above ground  
You're frustrated then go  
You're frustrated then go  
  
Amethyst's way of ending the song is obnoxious, as she just flicks at the strings randomly for a loud, abrupt ending, while Greg actually sticks to protocol. The crowd expresses good favor with some drunken applause and vulgar yelling; some girls screech at Greg, who absorbs the attention like a dry sponge, flicking his hair and pointing at them. Pearl feels like she's going to hurl at the sight. 

For a brief moment, Amethyst and Pearl's eyes meet, but nothing happens, and Amethyst takes a seat on the edge of the stage, pulling a cloth out of her pocket and pretending to scrub at her guitar strings. Pearl frowns, wondering what that was supposed to mean; in fact, it's rude, and Pearl will have nothing of it. 

Shimmying through a few bar-goers, she approaches the stage, ignoring the weird, confused look from Greg and putting herself directly in front of an ignorant Amethyst. When she finally stops rubbing the guitar with her rag, she looks up at Pearl, looking particularly unamused, making Pearl feel immediately unwelcome. 

“Um... hello.” Pearl greets awkwardly, wishing she didn't bother coming over here. 

“Yo.” Amethyst responds, leaning back and giving Pearl a bored-looking once-over. 

Pearl looks to Garnet and the to Greg, hoping for some kind of indication for why Amethyst is being so weird. However, they're preoccupied and not even looking in her direction. 

“I uh... I'm sorry. About last night.” Pearl offers, though too quietly. Her voice is drowned out in the multiple loud conversations happening around them. Amethyst blinks a few times, as if trying to see if she can process Pearl's words on her own through mental repetition.

“...Huh?” She finally replies, still confused.

Pearl grunts, repeating herself just a little louder.

“What?” Amethyst tries again, still maintaining a lazy expression. Pearl is irked by her standoffish behavior, especially when it's been unprovoked. 

“CAN WE GO OUTSIDE FOR A MINUTE?” Pearl yells, just loud enough for Amethyst to hear. She doesn't respond for several seconds, leaving Pearl in an uncomfortable wash of silence. 

Amethyst shrugs, sliding off the stage and setting down her guitar. She yells something to Garnet that Pearl can't decipher. This earns a nod from her mysterious bandmate. So Pearl sets her drink down next to the guitar, soon following Amethyst through the crowds to the back door of the bar.

. . .

It's remarkable what difference the air quality is once they're outside. It doesn't reek of cigarettes and Pearl is thankful to take in the cold, but clean night air. 

Amethyst leans against the alleyway, pocketing her hands and crossing her ankles. For a moment, Pearl struggles to initiate conversation, since Amethyst seems particularly unsociable. 

“I uh.. inside, I was trying to... apologize, about last night.” She says shyly, reading Amethyst's body language to be less and less inviting. It's hard to believe that this girl was in Pearl's bed last night kissing her so sweetly. Her stomach churns with an unknown sadness at the comparison.

“S'fine.” Amethyst replies shortly, only furthering Pearl's nameless guilt. 

“I.. it doesn't feel like it? You're acting weird.” She admits pointedly.

“I'M acting weird?” She laughs. 

“Yes. You are. You're being so... cold. I mean.. last night you were different.”

“Uh, that we BEFORE your... girlfriend or whatever the fuck she is... decided to happen on in.” Amethyst says plainly, glaring at the other side of the alleyway. 

“R-Rose?” Pearl stammers, confused at her assumption. “Sh.. she's not--”

“Right. She's totally NOT your girlfriend.” She interrupts, glancing to Pearl with a low hostility. Pearl immediately steps away. “But she sure as fuck acts like it.” She adds.

“She isn't!” Pearl denies, wondering where any of this is coming from. Did they talk after they left Pearl's room last night?

“Right. Well... she made it pretty clear that she doesn't want me hanging around you, so.”

“Th-that's not her decision to make!” Pearl argues, getting flustered. “Why are you acting this way?”

Amethyst finally looks to Pearl, establishing proper eye contact. “What is she then?”

“..Wh..huh?”

“What is she to you?” Amethyst asks, keeping her voice low but somehow still coming off with malice.

“How can you even... ask me that? I kissed you! More than once! Doesn't that speak for itself?!” She raises, feeling the small amount of vodka starting to warm her uncomfortably from the inside. She hasn't eaten in a day or so, meaning there's nothing slowing her body from absorbing the alcohol. She suddenly realizes that this was a horrible mistake. 

“Kissing doesn't mean anything.” Amethyst says roughly. “I heard about you and R--” She stops, the door to the bar opens, and to neither of their surprise, a couple, obviously drunk, stumble out of the doorway, in the midst of a furiously uncomfortable-looking make out session. Pearl quells a groan, wishing the interruption hadn't happened. Especially in the midst of Amethyst speaking. 

Without needing to communicate, they relocate further down the alleyway, unfortunately also further from the only street light.

“You heard about what?” Pearl tries calmly, hoping that maybe the distraction would reset the mood.

“Nothing. I just heard things.”

“Don't pull that with me, Amethyst. What did you hear?”

“Stuff about your and...her.” She admits, hinting towards Rose. 

“AND?” Pearl presses, hating the ambiguity in Amethyst's answers.

“Look. I don't need to explain shit. There's something weird going on with you two. And I don't... I shouldn't have to tip-toe around your weird friend! Seriously, what is up with her?!”

“She's just... she's just my friend!” Pearl tries again, keeping herself from yelling. 

“The type of friend who just so happens to let themselves into your room when I'm over? The type of friend who bans me from the campus so I can't see you? The type of friend who tells me I'm bad for you?!” Amethyst seethes, no longer maintaining a low volume. 

“...Sh...she said th--?”

“Yep! And while I'm at it, she also told me you have a lot of issues and that I'm 'enabling' you.” She expresses with air quotes. Pearl shrinks immediately, wondering why Rose would divulge such sensitive material to a stranger. “So, rather than drag you down with my 'bad influences', I think I'll play it safe and let her have you.” She decides, absently brushing her fingers through her hair, forgetting about the black eye. 

“How did you get that?” Pearl asks, dismissing their conversation for now.

“Get what?”

“Your eye. Did you... hurt yourself?” She asks, also looking to the bruised collarbone and arm. 

“It doesn't matter.” Amethyst maligns, letting her fringe come back down to cover it.

“Y-yes it does! What happened to you?”

“Pearl!” She yells, fuming with pent-up emotions. “Just... just drop it, okay!? Just drop everything. Don't come see me anymore. I'm bad-- I get it... That's all you need to know. I'm bad and you shouldn't be around me. Just listen to your stupid... not-girlfriend...and leave me the _fuck_ alone..”

Pearl, being of weak emotional constitution, immediately feels tears welling up, and steps away, pawing at her face to wipe them away and looking to Amethyst with confused heartache. “I-- I...”

“Leave.” Amethyst demands hoarsely, as if she herself is distraught. Pearl wants to resolve this, but at the same time, wants to be alone so she can cry without embarrassing herself. And so, with several turbulent seconds passing, she finally but reluctantly acquiesces. Leaving without another word.


	8. again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> greg isn't a bad dude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight Drinks is a fanwork intended for mature audiences only. If you are triggered by sex, drug abuse, violence, homosexuality, or pearlmethyst, you should probably hit the back button on your browser.
> 
> Quality checks performed by Badporl. If you find inconsistencies or errors, please message her. I do not edit my own works.
> 
> \---
> 
> Music for this chapter:
> 
> [Portals by En Snares.](https://soundcloud.com/ensnares/portals) Drink to forget.  
> [A Certain Girl by Pierre le Fou.](https://soundcloud.com/pierre-le-fou-1/a-certain-girl-demo-pierre-le-fou) Delete her.  
> [Fortress by Pinback.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=59cQWw9ctOA) Brooding.

_“Leave.”_

She's white-knuckling the steering wheel; trying to fight back her tears but failing horribly. She can hardly get herself to start the ignition, having spent a good 5 or 10 minutes just sitting in the car in the parking lot outside the bar. Rage, confusion, sadness, disappointment, anguish... they all overtake her; it's debilitating. There are so many things she wants to do right now.

Run back in there and slap Amethyst for being so... assuming. Not letting Pearl explain herself. 

At the same time, she wants to find Rose and tear her up one side and down the other for sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. She drove Amethyst away from Pearl so easily, and it's infuriating. 

Aside from these conflicting urges, Pearl also just wants to go back to the dorm and cry herself to sleep; no matter how pitiful it sounds.

It shouldn't be this hard. None of this should be so hard... She met someone she was interested in; which is extremely rare given how withdrawn Pearl is from any form of a social life. It's always been about working and studying. Amethyst was a pleasant surprise. And despite only knowing her for two days, Pearl had grown quite attached. Amethyst was... fun, unpredictable, sexy, mysterious... she could go on. And now it's over. Over before she even had a chance...

She can't help but remember last night; how different things were. 

_I'd kiss you._

How could this have started and ended so quickly? Is there anything she could have done differently to prevent the premature end of what little relationship she had?

Probably not.

Nothing good ever stays...

And Pearl's problem is that she gets attached too quickly.

What does one do when faced with a traumatic situation like this?

It was bad enough the first time around. Being rejected. What can Pearl do to ease this awful pain in her chest? To ease the sorrow gripping her throat. To quell her tears. 

She needs something. She needs it now. 

Alcohol.

Her tears seem to halt at the thought. Alcohol. Numbness. Relapse. _Comfort._

Blissful inebriation.

Her grip loosens, but she remains leaning forward, forehead resting against the steering wheel. Parked beneath the harsh lighting of a street lamp, her mind seems to calm down considerably; comforted by the thought that it'd be a simple stop on the way home to the liquor store. Is it really okay? Is it okay to turn to alcohol, once more? Of course it isn't.

But that's not going to stop her. 

Pearl reaches forward, turning the key.

. . .

“Uh... sooooo... what was all that about?” Greg asks quietly. The bar has closed. It's 2:00 A.M, and now that he has a moment alone with Garnet and Amethyst, his curiosity demands answers. “How do YOU know Pearl?”

For a while, Amethyst doesn't honor him with any sort of response. Instead, gathering up equipment and bundling cords. Garnet sits on the floor of the stage, seemingly engrossed in texting someone. 

“Amethyst?” Greg tries again, now genuinely concerned for his friend. 

“It doesn't matter.” Amethyst finally states, sort of half-kicking the speakers back into the stage closet. She doesn't seem at all curious as to how Greg knows Pearl, either. 

At this, Greg sours a little. “I think it does matter. She seemed pretty upset when she left for her car. And you're looking no better...”

“The fuck? Were you spying on me?!” Amethyst accuses dropping the microphone onto the stage at attention and turning to face Greg.

“I was just concerned. And... a little confused at how you guys knew each other. You're hardly what I call of 'similar' taste.”

“Whatever Greg. It's over. Can you lay off?!”

For a second, Greg entertains the idea of backing down, knowing that when Amethyst is in her 'moods' it's best to just wait it out; but a friend of Rose's is a friend of his. No matter how rude they might be occasionally. That and Pearl is just too... chaste to be a victim of Amethyst's hot temper. “No, I can't lay off. Pearl is my... friend. But you're my friend, too!”

Garnet looks up from her phone, acknowledging Greg's tension and Amethyst's 'wounded animal' act. Being the mature adult in this situation, she's quick to stand up, grabbing a drum stick and promptly whacking Amethyst firmly on the top of her head.

“Ow, Fuck! Garnet! What's your deal?!”

“The better question would be 'what is YOUR deal'?” She affirms coolly, looking to her friend from behind her shades with masked concern and annoyance. 

The scrappy girl looks between her two bandmates, soured at being ganged up on so quickly. 

“My deal is that the girl I liked, and thought liked me back, already has a... something. I think...” She says, trailing off at her own uninformed conclusions. 

“You THINK?” Greg raises, finding the whole idea preposterous. “Pearl isn't dating anyone! ...Not that I'm aware of. Rose hasn't told me. Seems like something she would mention.” Greg explains, perplexed and a bit confounded at the likelihood of Pearl and Amethyst ever being... a thing. “How did you guys even meet anyways?”

“Like I keep telling you it doesn't matter!” Amethyst fumes, completely disregarding the question. “Your 'friend' Rose has made it very clear that Pearl is off limits.”

Greg swallows, looking to Garnet for any help. 

“Amethyst. Greg and Rose are dating. Not Pearl and Rose.” Garnet clarifies, crossing her arms and looking to her friend with a quiet disappointment. 

The shorter girl looks between Greg and Garnet, as if trying to see if it were some kind of lame joke; but they're bother serious, and Amethyst immediately feels washed over with immense embarrassment.

“You gotta be fuckin' kidding me. WHY DO ALL OF THESE PEOPLE KNOW EACH OTHER SUDDENLY?! You know Pearl AND Rose? Why have you never talked about them?!” She half yells, raking her fingers through her hair in frustration.

"Because I?? I just show up to play with you guys! We don't really 'hang' out much!” Greg defends. Amethyst makes a frustrated groan. 

“Great, now I fucked this up even MORE! I gotta go find her!” She decides quickly.

“You're banned from the dorms.” Garnet supplies frankly. 

“I don't care!”

“Wait, what? You're banned from the dorms? How?” Greg asks, surprised at all this new information.

“Yet another long story that I don't have time to explain, _Gregory_.” She leers, frustrated. Then, a light bulb goes off in her head. “Do you have her phone number?!”

He blinks a few times before looking to the side nervously. “No...” He lies, knowing that giving Amethyst a form of contact for Pearl would probably make matters worse.

“Why not?!”

“Pearl is more Rose's friend than mine!” Greg explains. “And I think Pearl hates me for some reason...?” He adds plainly. “And how could you think that Pearl and Rose had a thing? I mean... Rose is a bit protective of Pearl but I can't honestly believe that she told you to stay away?”

Amethyst kicks at the floor lazily, pocketing her hands and looking away in a small pout. “...She didn't say it EXACTLY like that...”

Both Garnet and Greg sigh in their own chagrin. 

“But she was being pretty aggressive, regardless!” Amethyst says quickly. “She basically told I was bad for Pearl and that I was making her 'regress' or whatever.”

“Regress?” Greg echoes. “How?”

“Like... I dunno'! She said Pearl has a problem with drinking and that I was _enabling_ her to pick back up on it or something!”

“And she told you to... leave Pearl alone? That seems irrational.”

“Eeeehhh... she... kinda... said something like... maybe I shouldn't let her have any... or something. BUT you should have heard the way she said it! And the way she looked at me! Like I was Aladdin and Pearl was Jasmine or some garbage like that!”

Greg squints at Amethyst, unsure of how much he can trust her explanation of things. “Look... maybe I can talk to Rose? I'm sure this was just a huge... misunderstanding.”

“It's not a misunderstanding.” Garnet chimes in. “Amethyst.” She says, getting her friend's attention. “You jumped to conclusions. This is not Greg's problem to fix. You have to fix it.”

“Oh, no, that's okay Garnet I don't mind aski--” He halts mid-sentence, as Garnet raises a hand to stop him. 

“Amethyst.” She repeats. Nothing else needs to be said.

“Urgh... just forget it! She's outta my league anyways. And there's no way she'd ever talk to me again. Not after how bitchy I was.” 

“Regardless of whether or not you have a 'shot' at a relationship, you owe her an apology for being rude.” 

“Aw geez Garnet...” Amethyst cringes, knowing that just in the way she pronounces Amethyst's name is its own brand of censure. “What does it matter? I won't see her anymore. And HELLO... we only knew each other for like... 2 days! She'll forget about me in no-time.”

“Will you?”

“What?” Amethyst asks,with boiling irritation 

“Will you forget about her 'in no-time'?” 

Amethyst hesitates for obvious reasons. Of course she wouldn't be able to get over Pearl. She's the first girl to enter her apartment for something other than a one-night stand; even if she was an unconscious, mumbling rag-doll at first. She still stayed and... talked to Amethyst and spent time with her. That's a fair blessing, considering. It would have been easy for Pearl to just call a friend to come pick her up but she just went with the flow and stuck around. That's something rare. Something extraordinary.

“Probably.” She says, not wanting to prove Garnet right again. 

“Hmm..” Is all she says in response, knowing that pressuring or cajoling Amethyst to do the right thing is a lost cause; she'll have to come to that decision on her own. 

Greg witnesses the interaction, unsure what his place is but knows that he's angry with Amethyst's behavior towards Pearl. 

They wordlessly finish packing up their equipment; most of it going into the back of Greg's van save for Amethyst's own guitar. Greg wants to ask when the next gig is, but honestly doesn't even know if he wants to play when things are so weird between everyone. 

Amethyst mutters a weak 'seeya' to Garnet before climbing into her own truck, brushing Greg off entirely. Garnet and Greg shares a look of concern as her truck pulls out of the parking lot, but neither of them can say for sure what will happen next. Amethyst is, after all, anything but predictable.

* * *

The campus is a 40 minute drive away from the nearest body of water.; a small lake. A campground occupies its shores. One that Pearl was dumped off at for summer camp many many years ago, when her parents were having 'marital issues'. She comes here on occasion when she needs to be alone. And since it's March, the grounds are locked up and unoccupied. She parks her car near one of the lake cabins; the one she stayed in with three other girls. Cabin 4. 

In the passenger seat, a brown paper bag filled with whatever fruity alcohol the liquor store had. She'd originally intended to drink in her dorm, but the thought of seeing Rose right now is just not a thing she can handle.

As if it were a bundled infant, she carefully pulls it from the seat, exiting her car and walking over a loose gravel trail to the small, debatably 'sturdy' dock that's probably been here since the 70's. She takes a seat at the end, removing her boots and socks and rolling up her leggings before carefully dropping her feet into the cool waters. The slow chill that makes her bones ache is somehow comforting; thankful to feel something other than the tightness in her chest.

For several minutes she doesn't delve right into the alcohol. Taking a moment to weigh the situation and maybe trying to talk herself out of resorting to intoxication as an escape. She's overreacting. It's not like she knew Amethyst that well. But this situation is so much more than just Amethyst. 

This is about Pearl, being incapable of making her own choices or sticking up for herself. It's about Rose trying to make sure Pearl doesn't make a mistake. A mistake she made last year. A mistake rooted in her unhealthy propensity to drink when things get hard.

Amethyst was just the trigger. This has sort of been building over the past year. A strained friendship, college, work, family problems. How can Pearl NOT drink? How does anyone go through life sober?

Her hand dips into the bag, pulling out a can of hard cranberry lemonade. At this point she doesn't necessarily care for flavor; after a while it all just tastes the same. Like... white grapes. That's how she describes it, anyways.

The sound of the tab clicking and rushing with carbonated release is a lovely sound. She's eager for the first sip, taking one continuous gulp until her throat burns. 

The sky is excellent here. No light pollution. She can see the heavens with crystal clarity. In all honesty, she could just stay here. Skip classes. Skip work. Just forget about all of it. 

Admittedly, she should have thought the year through better. Taking four classes and working 25 hours a week is overloading her. She'll have to pray that she wins the scholarship she wrote for back in January; that would set her up for the rest of the semester and she could quit her dumb job.

Eventually, the pain from such cold water forces her to finally pull them out; and she lays on her back, continuing to observe the stars with a quiet longing. 

If Amethyst were here with her, it'd probably be cute. Romantic. They could... cuddle. Kiss. Talk about themselves and share stories. Is that really so much to ask? Someone to hold her and keep her mind from thinking too hard about life's problems. 

Unfortunately the chances of that happening are virtually 0. 

_Leave.”_

That word alone only encourages Pearl to drink more. She'll drink as much as she needs to in order to forget about the whole thing; even if for just a few hours. 

. . .

She's staring at her phone, at Pearl's unfinished phone number in her contact list. Thumb hovering over the delete button as if it were really such a difficult decision. In her other hand, a screwdriver, her 5th one. This, on top of the drinks she had at the bar add up to a mind-numbing stasis that only makes Amethyst even more aware of her pain. The bruises covering her arms ache, pulsing in quiet reminder of her physical expenditures earlier in the evening. 

Her knuckles ache, broken, raw skin threatening to bleed at the slightest graze. She'd go back now, but she can't get up.

Cunty invites herself to Amethyst's side, headbutting her gently and trilling a small bit.

“Why do I keep fucking things up...” She asks the feline, earning a low rumble in response. 

She presses the delete button, knowing that only keeping it would remind her of just how big of an asshole she was to Pearl. She wonders where she is right now. Probably with Rose, crying about how much of a jerk she was. Greg's probably there, too, adding insult to injury. 

“I guess I proved her... _Rose_ , right.” Amethyst murmurs, setting her phone down and taking a drink. “I really am bad for her...”

. . .

There's a harsh light banging against her eyelids. When she stirs from her alcoholic coma, she finds herself in her car. The sun is rising over the lake, making her headache even worse. The bag of alcohol she had is now filled with empty cans; hollow vessels reminding Pearl of her 'self-medicating.' It's cold in her car, only being covered with a small throw blanket from the trunk. She grumbles something under her breath, reaching forward and starting the car to get the heat going. Rising from the lake is an eerie fog as it wakes up to the meager warmth of a winter sun. 

Classes.

She groans, knowing that if she skips again she'll only earn more negative attention from her friend. 

Pearl wonders for a moment if Greg told her anything by now. Maybe she has a chance to stop anything before it starts. It's 6:49 AM. Class doesn't start 'til 9:00. Maybe, just maybe, if she speeds a little, she can get back and shower in time to cut Gregory off before he meets Rose for coffee. 

You know the situation is dire when Pearl has to talk to Gregory. 

. . .

She hides the bag of empty cans under the blanket before leaving the car. Campus is quiet for now; walking zombies who haven't had a drop of coffee yet, mindlessly wandering to their morning classes, so it's safe to say that Pearl's unkempt, hungover appearance can be pegged as lack of sleep and lack of fucks to give.

Her phone has messages that she's not exactly in a rush to read, so she ignores it for now, entering her dorm room with a sigh of relief. But she can't relax now. She needs to shower and needs to make herself look less hungover than she really is. 

And right the fuck on queue, there's a knock at her door.

“Augh!” She cringes, face-palming and for a second entertaining the thought of beating on whoever it is like a sleep-deprived savage. Instead, she smooths her hair out quickly, and opens the door with the best look of innocence she can conjure. 

To her complete surprise, it's NOT Rose. In fact, it's... Gregory. She swallows her surprise, looking down at him with unmasked bewilderment. 

“...Gregory.” She greets awkwardly. Noticing the fine sprouts of five o' clock shadow spreading around his mouth. Repulsive.

“Pearl.” He replies, just as awkward. “Hey...”

“....Hhhello?” 

Greg notices the discomfort, but presses anyways. “So... how are you doing?”

Pearl glances sideways, as if the question more like an equation begging to be solved. “Uh... fffine? Can I help you... with something?”

“Look. I won't take up too much of your time... I just uh... I sort of... saw what happened last night.... and I don't really know what's uh, goin' on with you and Amethyst-- I'm not even sure how y--”

Pearl stands aside, motioning for Greg to come in before he continues. At first he's confused, having never been invited by Pearl to do anything. That and because he's never been into Pearl's room. Ever. 

Or be around her without Rose present. 

He takes a few cautious steps in, expecting that maybe Rose is here, too. But the dorm is empty, and the lights are off, but as the door clicks shut she turns them on; making things at least a solid 10% less awkward. With the addition of better illumination, Greg can see just how awful and worn Pearl looks. Eyes look tired and puffy, hair not in it's perfect form as it usually is, she's still in the clothes she wore last night and they look... rough. 

She clears her throat in that haughty way she usually does when she's about to try leveling with someone or correct them. “Gregory... about last night. I would... appreciate it... if Rose did not... find out that I was there.”

“...Is this because of uh... your drinking... thing that Amethyst was talking about?”

A frustrated sigh. “...How much did she... nevermind. Yes. That.”

“I uh... I won't then. But uh... that's not why I came here. I uh... look. There's been a HUGE... misunderstanding. And Garnet told me to stay out of it but you're uh... you're Rose's, and... my friend. Also, Amethyst can be a huge dick sometimes and she only acted that way because of some... mixed signals...” He puts carefully. “But at the same time she can be really cool.”

Pearl exhales in measure, finding it painful to have to think back to last night even for a second. “It... it doesn't matter, Gregory. I appreciate you... coming here, but I'm fine. Really. I hardly even... knew her.”

“Look Pearl, I know you think I'm an idiot.” He says plainly, and before Pearl can object, he continues. “But I can tell that this is like... bothering you and stuff. Like... she had to be important to you if you came to the bar just to see her.”

Pearl blushes, hating that even the simple-minded Gregory can see right through her. “Ah... I... hrrmm.”

“I think you should like... just try talking to her again? And explain things. OH! And make her apologize. She was an ass.”

“Gregory... the way she... got so angry with me. She wouldn't even let me explain... how is she going to face me now...”

“You just gotta give her some time. And by time I mean like... an hour. Her moods fluctuate... a lot.” He explains, speaking from experience. “And she does a lot of stuff spur-of-the-moment. Which I guess when I explain her that way it'd make you... want to stay away. But I like you both, and I'd hate to see either of you like... give up without trying y'know?”

Pearl is caught between feeling touched, or disturbed by Gregory's sudden display of concern for her. It's odd, since she's practically gone out of her way to be cold towards him. Maybe he's not so bad...

“I uh... I suppose...”

“Sweet! Her and Garnet are playing again tonight at a different bar. I can give you the address if ya want.” He offers, face beaming suddenly. 

“Oh I don't know, Gregory. Isn't that a bit... sudden? Maybe I should give it a few... days.”

“Oh no. Trust me. The sooner you do it, the better. Do you have work tonight again?”

Pearl, trying to acclimate to such a sudden shift in mood, kind of stammers over herself. A weird, uncomfortable kind of hope fills her now, as well as an intense nervousness. “I do not...”

“Cool. I think they play at around... 7-8ish? Here, let me just...” He stops, pulling a pen and his notebook out. From the glimpse Pearl got of a few pages, its his lyrics/composing book. He flips to a blank page and jots down an address that Pearl will probably need to take to a professional to decipher. His handwriting is abhorrent, like a chicken, in the final throws of an agonizing death trying to scrawl something down with its last breath and they only have two toes to hold the pen with. That's what it looks like, Pearl concludes, somewhat disturbed at how specific she made the observation. 

He tears it out and hands it over, and she doesn't even bother looking at it for now, not wanting to end up making a disturbed face and make it seem like she's ungrateful. 

“Thank you... Gregory. Uhm... you didn't have to... do this.”

“I know, but like... I dunno'. I've never seen you look at anyone the way you looked at Amethyst. Trust me, I'm a musician. I see those kinds of _things_. He explains, winking. 

“...The way I look at her?” Pearl echoes, not even trying to hide the confusion by contorting her eyebrows uncomfortably. 

“Yeah you know... like... normally you have this resting... mean face, but when you look at her you seem pretty... eh... I'll think of the word eventually. Maybe I'll even write a cool song about it. Yeah...” He says, trailing off in his own ideas for lyrics. Pearl blinks several times, squinting down at the short man who is currently the object of Rose's affections. She supposes she can see how... Rose would go for someone who's so... odd? Interesting? 

“...Thanks?” Pearl says eventually. “I guess...”

“No prob, bob.” He says, winking again. He glances to his phone. “Oh shoot! I told Rose I'd meet her for coffee. Do you wanna come? You look like you could use some haha.” He observes, looking again at the dark circles under Pearl's eyes.

She entertains the idea; definitely liking the idea of coffee, but remembers that she has a Keurig that she rarely uses and decides that it'd be better to actually get her money's worth out of it... even if it was actually a high school graduation present. That and she really needs a shower. A hot one, since she practically slept in a freezing car. 

“Thanks, Gregory, but I'll pass. I really... need to shower before class.” She says gently, suddenly feeling very filthy. “And... thank you for... keeping this a secret from Rose... she uhm... I just want to keep some things private.” She expresses, wringing her hands together in silent anxiety at the thought of Rose knowing of anything concerning being at a bar... or confirming the relapse. The last thing she needs is for Rose to get EVEN MORE concerned and mothering. 

“Hey man I got you.” He says, playfully knocking Pearl on the arm with a loose fist. She half-grins, trying to seem less rigid than normal, rubbing the area soon after. He probably doesn't understand how frail Pearl is; from A. The hangover, and B. The whole 'haven't eaten in a really long time' thing. 

“Right... well... I'll let you know how things... go, then.” 

“Yeah, you better!” He jokes, moving towards the door. “Oh, and uh... nah. Nevermind. See ya later.”

When the door is closed, and Pearl is left alone, she turns to the slip of paper; which if she concentrates hard enough, she can make out a few legible letters and numbers. Does she really want to see Amethyst again tonight? After what happened? What does Greg mean by 'the sooner she does it, the better?' Does it have something to do with the bruises and cuts Amethyst had? Does she hurt herself when she's upset? 

There's something so nerve-wracking about the entire situation. What if Amethyst just brushes her off again? She can't handle a second time... she could hardly handle the first.

She sets the paper down on the countertop, picking back up where she left off; which was going to take a shower. 

She has a lot of thinking to do.


	9. blood and rust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pathetic banter between meatheads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight Drinks is a fanwork intended for mature audiences only. If you are triggered by sex, drug abuse, violence, homosexuality, or pearlmethyst, you should probably hit the back button on your browser.
> 
> Quality checks performed by Badporl. If you find inconsistencies or errors, please message her. I do not edit my own works.
> 
> \---
> 
> Music for this chapter:
> 
> [Home by ISLANDIS.](https://soundcloud.com/islandis-684873259/home) Just the radio.  
> [Come Into Our Room by Clinic.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qxq9MSce0Go) Stalking.  
> [Wall Watcher by Sunflower Bean.](https://soundcloud.com/fatpossum/sunflower-bean-wall-watcher-1) In the crowd.  
> [To Be Alone With You by Sufjan Stevens.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dTc--0sZbrE) Clean up.

Pearl is positive that this is the bar. The address vaguely resembles the one Greg wrote down. That and she spots Amethyst's truck immediately. So Amethyst is here... and something in Pearl has her second-guessing this whole approach entirely. 

She shouldn't be so quick to come back. But here she is. Sitting in her car, staring at the building as the night crowd works in. She's shaking slightly, filled with the negative thoughts of Amethyst just yelling at her to leave again. 

And then something happens. 

Amethyst exits the building. Looking... extremely shady. There's no lying. The black hoodie pulled up, hands in her pockets and hunched forward slightly? Is she ill? Or is she about to lay down a drug deal?

Pearl remains seated, not mentally prepared to approach her. Especially when she looks as... sketchy as she does now. It's downright intimidating. She produces a pack of cigarettes, withdrawing one and lighting it promptly. Amethyst smokes? Pearl had no idea. Her apartment didn't smell at all like a smoker's cave. She finds herself slipping down in the seat, continuing to spy on her. 

The door to the bar opens again. It's that Garnet woman. 

The two of them are quiet at first, and when Garnet faces in Pearl's direction, Pearl immediately becomes stiff. Does she recognize her dumb Prius from across the street?! Oh GOD.

But then she turns back to Amethyst, seeming to engage in small talk. 

Pearl shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be spying like this. This is creepy. 

Amethyst then gestures, jutting her thumb and pointing down the road at seemingly nothing in particular. Garnet seems to nod, as if giving Amethyst some kind of permission to leave. Amethyst grins a little, though with apparent pain and takes a drag of her cigarette. They talk for a few more minutes, which appears to be pleasant. Maybe she's not angry anymore. Maybe now would be a good time to approach. 

Her hand grabs onto the door handle, preparing to exit. But suddenly, Garnet goes back inside, and Amethyst goes her separate way down the sidewalk. 

Where is she going?

...Should Pearl follow? 

She did drive an hour just to come out here...

But it'd be extremely... indecent, not to mention inappropriate, to follow. If Amethyst found out that Pearl was trailing her it'd probably just set her off.

But before she can stop herself, she's opening the car door quietly, and closing it as softly as possible, as if Amethyst were a deer and Pearl were a hunter. The slightest noise could draw Amethyst's attention and she'd rather not get caught so early on. If at all. 

It's getting dark, and Pearl doesn't feel very safe, being female and all. But some sort of furious curiosity staves off the fear enough to keep going. Silently, or as silently as one can with the boots she's wearing, she trails a safe distance behind and hoping that no one drives by and notices how weird she's behaving. 

When Amethyst takes a sudden sharp left down an alleyway, Pearl almost draws the line. The alley is dark, and just what you would expect to be murdered in. And She lingers at the threshold, watching Amethyst as she keeps going, as if the fear of being mugged wasn't even a thing. But the panic sets in when Amethyst disappears from her vision; she takes another corner and vanishes. 

Soon, her feet are carrying her through the dark expanse, silently praying to a god she doesn't believe in that she isn't lynched or stabbed with a broken beer bottle for the $20 bill in her pocket.

As she approaches the corner she lost Amethyst at, she steadies her footsteps, not wanting to alarm the girl she's so intent on following.

Carefully, she peers around the corner, making sure that Amethyst isn't on to her and Pearl catches sight of her just as she cuts yet another corner. This is getting ridiculous. 

And in the distance, she hears a low thrumming. Like music. Is she going to rave or something? She's quick to pick back up on the trail, noting a freshly discarded cigarette butt that Amethyst didn't stomp out.

...Naturally, Pearl does it for her before continuing her pursuit.

Just in time, Pearl sees Amethyst enter what seems to be a... warehouse? A heavy metal door covered in rust is opened, and Amethyst invites herself in. Several people are outside, smoking and having loud conversation. So it... it has to be a rave of some kind. Absolutely. 

Would they notice Pearl immediately? Will she stick out like a sore thumb? Maybe she should just turn around. Then again, the thought of navigating the alleyways alone terrify her; so warehouse it is. 

Fortunately, no one really pays Pearl any mind as she approaches the door. One of them is kind enough to give her a wave that is surprisingly not creepy. She waves back timidly, wondering if maybe the wave meant something else and that is was really a gang sign for 'do u want drugs lol'. She clearly has no concept of how reality works for people her age. 

A poster on the door grabs her attention. It just has a few name messily scrawled on it, as well as some dollar signs. And the word 'cage match' with today's date at the top. 

...Cage match? Like... like as in... fighting? People really do this?!

She swallows hard, accepting the harsh reality that Amethyst engages in such... sport. 

So this explains the bruising from last night...

She's hesitant, allowing a few people to pass her and enter. She hears loud music. Loud yelling. What is Pearl doing here? She shouldn't be here. This isn't a place she would frequent on her own. Why is Amethyst so important that Pearl would forego her comfort zone just to see her?

She sighs, accepting her fate as if turning around isn't an option anymore. She opens the rusted door, entering into a den of everything that irritates or frustrates Pearl, gathered into a horrible cesspool of aesthetic displeasure. 

The warehouse is just like it's been depicted in those grungy fight films; dark, dank, maybe 3-4 lights in the whole place. Rusty iron chairs are haphazardly scattered around, all aimed towards the arena; which is a shoddy stage enclosed in chain-link fence with barb-wire. Loud, heavy music floods her ears; almost deafening, vibrating her to the core. 

She steps in something sticky and is immediately leery of the place. No, it wasn't the fact that this building is an illegal den of mixed martial arts for money or the corner drug deals taking place around her, or the occasional male hocking and spitting into a an empty, sawed-off beer can, it was the foreign substance now caked to the bottom of her $75 boots. 

Anyways... back to more important things, she searches for Amethyst again, quickly spotting her by recognizing those purple high-lights. She's removing her hooded jacket, casting it onto the back of a metal chair. 

Fortunately, there's a good number of audience members, so Pearl can easily mesh into the crowd. The trouble will be, is she really prepared to watch whatever this is happen? Amethyst, who she hasn't taken her eyes off of, eagerly climbs into the cage through a small opening. A few of the audience members either show support, or jeer-- yelling obscenities and calling her, in Pearl's opinion, some very hurtful names. Amethyst seems completely unfazed, taking a seat in the corner of the arena and starting to wrap her hands in athletic tape. 

Why do people even come to these things? Who has money to waste placing bets on random strangers in a dark, abandoned building out in the slums? These people make absolutely no sense to Pearl. She shivers, taking a seat in a spot that falls outside the reach of most of the lights. What will happen if Amethyst gets badly hurt? Do they call ambulances here? Probably not! They wouldn't risk exposing their stupid testosterone-filled circus of violence for the sake of a human-being's safety. 

She can only hope that Amethyst is... experienced well enough to pull this off. Though going by the concerning bruise around her eye she can only assume that Amethyst isn't all that skilled... either that or she really just doesn't care what happens.

Just then, a second woman enters the cage; and Pearl shallows hard at the sight. This woman is easily twice Amethyst's build and height. There's no way this is fair! Amethyst looks to her opponent, seemingly bored and uninterested.

“That runts gonna get the shit knocked outta' her.” A guy says, not far away from where Pearl is seated. 

“I don't know, man, she fuckin' straight up killed a guy last night; and he was like, way bigger than this Jasper chick.” Another guy replies, speech slurring slightly. Pearl honestly hopes that Amethyst didn't 'kill' anyone, and that it's just the moron's way of describing a brutal beating. 

“Yeah okay, but that was a lucky shot, I mean, being a fucking gnome like she is, of course the guy would struggle trying to hit the lil' bitch.”

Pearl frowns, detesting how this stranger is speaking about Amethyst. She blocks it out to the best of her ability, slinking lower into the chair and facing the stage and crossing her arms. It's cold in here, she can see everyone's breath; this building isn't heated, why would it be? The only sources of warmth are a few fire barrels scattered around the building, but they're all occupied by herds of rowdy men.

Amethyst is finished bandaging her hands, curling and flexing her fingers to loosen up the tape. She locks eyes with the woman Pearl now knows as Jasper, face completely stark and cocky. Pearl's heart drops into her stomach; what drives Amethyst to do these things? She can't possibly enjoy getting beaten up and tossed around for a meager amount of cash...

There are no speakers to announce what's happening, only some guy banging on the cage with a metal pole and screaming something that Pearl can't hear. Amethyst and Jasper square up, evaluating each other. Thankfully, the music dulls down to a low roar. Apparently everyone wants to hear whatever dialogue the competitors will have for each other.

Jasper opens up with a husky laugh, crossing her arms and peering down at Amethyst, who just has a hand on her hip and a listless expression. Is she honestly not the LEAST bit afraid of this woman?! She's so massive!

“Yo! Ref! Who the fuck put me up against Scrappy-Doo over here?” She asks, grinning wide. The crowd yells with approval, and Pearl rolls her eyes, finding this whole situation to be absolutely ludicrous. “Is this even fair?”

Amethyst clicks her jaw a few times and rolls her shoulders, trying to loosen up. “Yeah? And who the FUCK brought me a god damn cheeto to fight? Seriously? She tangoed too hard with the cheap tanning oil.” She observes, now giving Jasper a snide look. The crowd becomes animated again, cheering even louder.

Jasper grunts and scoffs. “Whoa, great comeback, dwarf. Who drove you here, your mom?”

Pearl groans, rubbing her temples. This dialogue is already too much. Do they rehearse this garbage or is this really pure, uncut, unrated, unscripted stupidity unfolding before her eyes?

The crowd is silent, waiting for Amethyst to recover from the digging; and she cackles that raspy laugh of her, amused at the giant. 

“No. Actually, it was YOUR mom who drove me here; right after I ate her nasty pussy. Best sex she ever had. What's good Cheeto Puff?” Pearl chokes on air, both appalled and entertained by this. The crowd explodes with mixed reactions, most of them cheering. 

Jasper is silent, and the audience joins in, creating an atmosphere of collective anticipation.

“Count your fucking prayers bitch, because the last thing you'll be tasting is your own blood.”

Amethyst just maintains an amused composure, rolling her eyes. 

“Yeah right. Bring it on, dumbass, I'll crack your skull open and serve your brains over-easy to your dog.”

Pearl raises her eyebrows, surprised at Amethyst for being so... brave? No, something else. Pearl is somewhat disappointed, but at the same time, intrigued? The ref bangs on the cage, trying to get the crowd the calm down. When everyone has ceased their chattering, he pulls out a cowbell, holding in the air for everyone to see. Really? A cowbell? 

The bell rings, signaling the beginning of the match. 

Pearl can practically feel her anxiety skyrocket. The barbwire around the cage is probably just to keep the participants from getting too much distance between them; forcing them into close counters. 

Amethyst, being as small as she is, has no trouble ducking out of the way of Jasper's slow assaults, she rolls forward swiftly and travels between Jasper's legs, getting behind her and arresting her by grabbing one of her calves. Surprisingly, she's able to yank Jasper hard enough to throw her off balance. 

The audience gasps in shock at how fast Amethyst was able to overcome the taller woman. Jasper lands on her back, and Amethyst is plenty eager to crawl on top of her, landing the first blow into her opponents face-- and the assault continues for a few more blows until Jasper manages to shove the runt off, punching her for good measure right in the chest.

Amethyst staggers backward, hitting the fence and getting caught on some barbs. She doesn't flinch at all despite being cut in several places. Jasper ambles to her feet, laughing.

“Fighting you is like trying to fight a kindergartner.” She jokes, wiping some blood from her nose but only effectively smearing it across her face. She spits to the side, blood and saliva hitting the arena floor. Pearl frowns; how disgusting. Not to mention unsanitary...

“Yeah well this 'kindergartner' just fucked up that pretty little face of yours.” She retorts, holding her chest where she was hit. She's clearly struggling for breath; the wind must have been knocked out of her. “How do you like the taste of your own blood?”

“Lucky shot, half-pint .” She says, stepping forward and aiming a low-kick at Amethyst. She willingly steps back, hitting the barbwire again but swiftly running off to the side to dodge. As she approaches a corner of the stage, she redirects, taking a sharp turn and latching onto the fence; barbs cutting into her hands. Pearl cringes at the sight. It's absolutely astounding how fast Amethyst is able to scale the fence, getting up high and out of reach. It's... almost unsettling.

Jasper looks up, somewhat confused at the shorter woman. “The fuck? What are you doing, dumbass? The fight is down here.”

“Eh... ain't much of a fight.” She smiles, rolling her shoulders. Blood is dripping from her hands and trickling down her arms from her grips on rusted barbwire. The word tetanus invades Pearl's consciousness. 

“Get down here and fight me you fucking chicken-shit loser.”

“Besa mi culo, puta.” Amethyst calls from her high-spot, directing a bloodied middle finger to Jasper.

Pearl is... sad. There's no excitement to this. This is just depressing. Amethyst doesn't have to do this... so why is she doing it? 

One of Jasper's friends calls something from the audience, drawing Jasper's attention for a moment; which is just enough time for Amethyst to detach from the fence, jumping at the brute and clinging onto her back. Jasper growls, trying to reach around and get her off, but simply can't bend her arms in such an awkward way. Amethyst puts her in an sloppy choke-hold, whispering something into her ear that no one can quite hear. 

The struggle lasts for a few seconds before Jasper falls to her knees, rage painting her face. The change in position throws Amethyst off guard, and Jasper elbows backward, effectively detaching the parasite, but Amethyst is just too quick to recover, coming back and landing another hit to Jasper's face as she's turning around. Before she can get in a second jab, Jasper arrests Amethyst by the wrist. This all happens so fast, and Jasper lands her first proper punch, right into Amethyst's mouth. 

Pearl gasps again, covering her mouth and feeling the ghost pains of Jasper's blow. Involuntarily, Pearl gets up on her feet, taking a few steps forward and stopping. 

Jasper hasn't let go of Amethyst's wrist, and takes the opportunity to hand another hit square in Amethyst's stomach, immediately forcing the smaller woman to retch a small amount of vomit. Jasper only grins, happy to see the effect of her labor. Pearl looks away for a moment in panic, clenching her eyes shut; she can't possibly watch anymore of this, and yet she does. 

The sounds of Amethyst's coughing is painful, blood is pouring from her nose and a small cut on her lip. How can she keep going at this point?!

Jasper lets go of the runt, and Amethyst collapses onto all fours, out of breath and out of fight. A fair amount of blood and disgorge puddles on the stage beneath her. Before she can even get up, the bell is rung, and Jasper is declared the winner, much to Pearl's chagrin. That was fast...

Amethyst remains where she is while Jasper exits the stage, receiving brutish accolades from her peers. The girl that Pearl is worried about simply re-situates, sitting up and wiping the crimson fluid from her mouth and nose, but it just spreads. She struggles to catch her breath, but she doesn't look at all disappointed by the defeat; in fact she just looks... relieved? A half smile seeding in her face. She touches her lip, feeling the cut in fruition. 

Pearl is hurt; hurt that Amethyst resorts to this violence at all. For anything. She can't stand the idea of the girl she has a crush on willingly subjecting herself to this kind of pain. Why is she acting so stupid?! 

And then, Amethyst finally starts looking around, scanning the crowd. It just so happens that she finally sees Pearl standing completely still, arms crossed, looking ill and afraid. Amethyst is immediately surprised, standing up and looking to Pearl with a 'what the fuck are you doing here?!' face. 

Pearl swallows dryly, staring wide-eyed like a deer in headlights as Amethyst makes her way to the cage exit, and before she knows it, she's gunning for the exit and away from Amethyst; not particularly in the mood for confrontation or answers. She can't bare the thought of seeing Amethyst up-close; not when she's bloody and beaten. She hears Amethyst calling her name from the crowds, but she doesn't stop, even after she's exited the building, hoping that maybe Amethyst lost track of her in the mess of people. 

In the alleyway, it's much colder. She can see the steam forming from her panicked breathing as she runs aimlessly. Everything is dark, save for the harsh lighting from a lamp post. This cold night air burns in her throat, and when she's ran quite a distance away from the building, she stops, leaning against a brick structure to collect herself. A cold sweat covers her face, why is she afraid to see Amethyst? Shouldn't she be back there helping her clean herself up or get medical attention?

For a few moments, it's quiet. Her breathing is slowly becoming steady again. She slides down the wall into a sitting position, staring aimlessly up at the sky; it's clear. To calm herself, she begins naming off different constellations as she sees them; Vela, Pixis, Canis Minor, Carina...Lynx...Cancer. A sound draws her away from her activity, and she turns, looking down the alleyway.

Amethyst is there, running towards Pearl. It's too dark to make out her face; but she's probably mad.

Pearl immediately struggles to get on her feet, backing away from the approaching woman, breath shaky and uncertain.

“What are you doing here, Pearl?” She asks, voice rough and critical. “Who told you to come here?” She's much more rough-looking up close; her face just looks straight-up painful. In her arm she carries her jacket and a crumpled up envelope-- no doubt holding a piss-poor amount of money for participating in the fight.

“N...no one.” Pearl stammers, suddenly intimidated. “I... I saw you coming this way from the bar, and I--”

“You followed me?! What the fuck is your problem?! What do you want from me!?”

Pearl, not composed enough for this, immediately starts tearing up, stuttering and trying to conjure an response. Amethyst is _pissed_ , and Pearl is definitely terrified.

“I... I'm sorry.. I... you stopped talking to me, and I.. I wanted to.. e-explain things.. Wh..why are you here? Why are you doing this, I d-don't understand..” 

Amethyst, frustrated with a number of emotions, facepalms and drags her hand down her face, sighing and trying to calm down enough so that she isn't giving Pearl a reason to be scared. 

Pearl shivers, afraid and cold, trying to strangle her tears. Amethyst immediately softens, hating the sight of Pearl being so upset. She covers her mouth, feeling the full effects of a busted lip and a bloody nose. 

“Urgh... Pearl...” She groans, pushing her bangs up with a defeated expression. “Seriously... what do you want from me?” She asks again, but with less anger. “Why are you here?”

“I... I thought you and I were... I thought we would be... seeing more of each other. But you.. wouldn't even let me explain...and I..”

Amethyst's face becomes sullen, exhaling slowly through her bloodied nose. “Why do you wanna' see me...Rose was right about me.”

Pearl raises her brows, frustrated. “And like I tried telling you last night, Rose has nothing to do with this! You shouldn't care what my friend thinks!”

Amethyst pouts, crossing her arms and immediately feeling awash with regret and embarrassment, thinking back to her conversation with Garnet and Greg last night. Amethyst knows she's in the wrong now. But apologies aren't easy. They both stay quiet, and it's awkward. The only sound being Pearl's shivering breath and clattering teeth. Amethyst drawls forward, offering Pearl her jacket. 

Pearl just backs away, looking to Amethyst in disappointment. “No, I'm mad at you. You've been acting so...so STUPID!”

“Urgh, alright! I get it, okay! I fucked up What do you want? An apology?!”

“No, I want... I want you to stop... making assumptions about me! And taking Rose's words as fact. If she thinks you're bad, I don't... I don't care... I like you and I want t--I want to see more of you. If I cared what Rose thought, I wouldn't be here and I wouldn't have showed up last night to see you! Stop pulling away from me and carrying yourself away to this... circus of violence! Why do you even do this! Look at yourself, Amethyst! You're bloody. Does this feel good to you?!”

“Yeah. It does.” Amethyst says low, eyes fixed to the ground at her sneakers. 

“I d-don't believe th-that.” Pearl counters, shivering heavily and reaching forward, brushing her thumb over Amethyst's cut lip. She flinches under the touch, but doesn't pull away. 

Amethyst swallows hard, shrugging. “It helps me stay distracted.”

“D-d-don't you h-have video g-games for that?” Pearl asks, kneeling down in front of Amethyst. She reaches into her purse, producing a kleenex and wetting it against her tongue, using it to try cleaning some of the blood off of Amethyst's face.

“It's not the same.” She explains, arresting Pearl by the wrist and stopping her from giving any sort of care. “Come on, lets get some place warm. You're shivering.”

Pearl sighs, shoving the kleenex into her pocket. “...Fine.” 

* * *

They return to the bar, but only to get into Amethyst's truck. That awful song from the 80's, Africa by Toto is playing on the radio, but she doesn't complain, finding it better than more awkward silence. They drive to Amethyst's apartment, which is only a 10 minute drive.

Pearl feels somewhat relieved when they enter the living room; it's warm, and smells of pine needles. Amethyst removes her jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Pearl grumbles a little, picking it up and placing it on the coat rack. After getting a bottle of vodka from the fridge and pouring a glass, Amethyst works over to the couch, turning on a table lamp. Pearl follows quietly, waiting for the moment when she can finally clean the horrible mess from the other girl's face. 

“Please let me take care of you...” Pearl requests, placing a gentle hand over Amethyst's shoulder. 

“Uh, fresh.” Amethyst retaliates jokingly, pushing the hand away with a painful grin.

“Amethyst.” She says flatly, unamused. 

“Urgh...ffffffine...” She relents, moving towards the bathroom, taking a drink from her glass. How charming.

“Sit up here, please.” Pearl motions, patting on the counter next to the sink as soon as they enter the small room. 

“Yeaaaah alright.” She complies, jumping up and taking a seat. She leans back into the wall, looking bored. “I can take care of myself, you know.” 

“I beg to differ.” Pearl murmurs, holding up Amethyst's hands to get a look at them. They're covered in cuts varying in depth and length. “I hope you've had a tetanus shot...” She explains, starting to unwrap them carefully. Amethyst cringes, taking another sip of her drink. 

Once she has disposed of the messy tape, her eyes bound to Amethyst's vodka, stealing it from her and taking a large gulp for herself; remarkably without cringing at the awful taste. Amethyst smiles. 

“Thirsty, huh?” 

“Parched.” She responds, setting it to the side and retrieving a washrag from the shower. She runs it under the faucet for a moment before tending to Amethyst's hands, washing away the blood carefully. 

Amethyst watches, feeling a mix of distress and comfort at the same time. No one has ever cared for her this way; and it's... nice. She looks to Pearl, who is completely dedicated and focused. She wants to kiss her, but doesn't know if that'd be... appropriate. They aren't drunk this time, after all. And all she can think of is how fucking rude she was to her last night.

“Seriously.” Pearl starts, not taking her eyes away from Amethyst's hands. “What were you thinking in that... cage fight? What part about getting your ass kicked feels 'good'?”

Amethyst inhales slowly. “Urgh... I know it sounds cliché...and dumb as hell...” She starts. “But like... I dunno'. When I'm sad, it just helps to get beaten up. The pain keeps me from thinking about... stuff.” 

“What stuff?” Pearl asks, convicted, switching to the other hand. 

Without thinking, Amethyst replies. “You.” 

Pearl halts herself, looking up to Amethyst in grief. 

“...Me?” She asks, saddened. “Am I... am I really that awful to think about?”

“Wh-- no! I mean!! I was sad because uh... I thought you were... eeeeeeuuuhhhh...with that... Rose chick and then it turns out that you aren't but she thinks I'm bad for you.. And uh...” She chokes. “I mean... I... I just... I couldn't stop thinking about you. It was driving me crazy. YOU drive me crazy... I'm just... I'm really fucking stupid and I can't handle emotions very well.. so I--”

“So you decided to go to a cage and get the snot beat out of you? Does that honestly help?!” Raises Pearl, unaware that she's squeezing Amethyst's hand painfully.

“Well... it _was_ helping. Until you showed up.” She admits, rolling her eyes. Pearl sighs, softening her grip, finding this whole situation to be a ludicrous chain of bizarre misunderstandings, poor communication and awful assumptions. Why can't people just be honest? Despite how events have unfolded beyond her control, Pearl can't help but feel responsible for Amethyst's pain.

“What can I do...?” She asks, a crushed feeling in her throat. “I don't want to see you like this...”

“Hmm... you could let me take you out I guess.” She says flatly with a smile, eyes lidded.

“...Out...? Like... on a date?” Pearl asks shyly, averting her eyes back to Amethyst's hands as she continues cleaning the blood away. 

“No I mean _out_. Like a hit. I'm a hit man. Make it easy for me.”

Pearl makes an unamused grunt. “Please be serious.”

“Urgh. YES. OUT. ON A DATE. Let me take you on a date.”

“Okay.” Pearl says simply, finishing up on Amethyst's hand, looking it over to make sure nothing is still bleeding. Amethyst chokes a little.

“...Wait, really?”

Turning away to rinse out the washcloth, she hums positively in response, confirming her answer. She returns, gently taking Amethyst by the chin and tilting it upwards to assess the damage done to her face. 

“Is your nose broken?” She asks, ignoring the bewildered look on Amethyst's face.

“You wanna go out with me?” She asks, skipping over Pearl's question. 

“Answer my question first.” She replies vacantly, brushing her thumb over Amethyst's busted lip. She shivers under Pearl's touch. How can she think straight when she's being touched so boldly. 

“Hnngg...uh... I... what was the question?”

“Is your nose broken.” She repeats, taking the glass of vodka and inviting herself to another gulp. She wipes her mouth with her sleeve, waiting for an answer.

“N—no? I don't think so?”

“Mmm.” Pearl thrums, bringing the cloth up to Amethyst's face, scrubbing away the dried blood. Amethyst closes her eyes, unable to cope with the domestic nurturing. 

“You could have just asked me in the first place.” Pearl finally says, getting beneath Amethyst's chin. The shorter girl grimaces.

“It's not that easy!” She argues, getting a little worked up and shrugging her shoulders. 

“Hold still.” Pearl commands, making Amethyst blush slightly. “Why isn't it easy? You don't seem like the type to hesitate when you want something.”

“Uh, hello? Have you seen yourself? How could I ever think I stood a chance?” She laughs, earning another grunt from Pearl to 'hold still'. “And yeah I guess I take what I want but it's kinda hard to rebound from one of your friends telling me I'm bad.”

“I think it's obvious that I find you... attractive, given what happened on Tuesday night.” She explains tentatively, mirroring Amethyst's blush. “You should... give yourself a little more credit. And I'm sure that... Rose didn't mean it that way.”

“You were drunk though. Drunk people do some pretty crazy shi—OW! Watch it.” She cries as Pearl hits a sensitive spot. Pearl only sighs. 

“I told you to hold still.”

“I AM holding still! You're just getting distracted!”

“It doesn't help that you're talking.” Pearl argues. “I can't clean your lip with your mouth moving.”

“You're asking me questions! What am I supposed to do? Not answer them?!”

Without warning, Pearl moves in, capturing Amethyst's bruised lips in a soft kiss. Any energy Amethyst had left in her for arguing is now redirected into the kiss; she leans forward, taking Pearl's waist into her wounded hands and pulling her closer. 

So soft; nevermind that her lips are a little chapped, and nevermind that Pearl is still a bit awkward at kissing, and nevermind that it hurts like hell, it feels wonderful regardless. And for the brief moment that Pearl's tongue laps at Amethyst's cut lip, she can feel her whole body heating up, immediately wanting more. But just as Amethyst was getting into the kiss, Pearl abruptly pulls away, resuming the act of cleaning away the blood, as if the kiss were just part of an agenda to shut Amethyst up. And it worked. 

Blushing hard, Amethyst stays quiet, letting the pale girl tend to her without further sassing.

* * *

When she's finally done fretting over Amethyst, she finishes off the vodka, with no complaint from the woman who poured it. In all honesty, Amethyst is surprised at how Pearl can down straight vodka without cringing in the slightest.

“OW! WH??!” Pearl yells, jumping forward and crashing into Amethyst. She looks down to the floor, locking eyes with a ball of black fur and bright amber eyes. She reaches down, massaging her ankles, which were freshly bitten.

“Awww, it's Cunty!!!” Amethyst says, excited. “She finally came out of her hiding spot!”

Pearl looks to the creature, somewhat irritated that the cat's first interaction with her would be so aggressively mean. Their eyes meet for but a second, and she darts off quickly, dashing down the hallway and into Amethyst's room. 

“Haha, that means she likes you.” Amethyst says, nudging Pearl playfully. 

“Hrmm...”

“What's wrong?” The shorter girls asks, seeing the pensive look on her face. “Do you need a band-aid, ya wimp?”

“No. I'm fine.” She replies airily, seemingly focused on other things. 

“Uhh... okay.” Amethyst swallows, feeling an apology boiling in her throat. “So uh... I... think I uhmm...”

“Amethyst.” Pearl says, disregarding the other girl's cacophony of mumbling. 

“Eeeeyeah?” Amethyst replies, picking up on the low timbre in Pearl's voice. Frankly, it makes Amethyst shiver. Something is... enticing about the way she said her name. 

“I'm staying the night.”


	10. truth or dare part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the sexual tension continues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight Drinks is a fanwork intended for mature audiences only. If you are triggered by sex, drug abuse, violence, homosexuality, or pearlmethyst, you should probably hit the back button on your browser.
> 
> Quality checks performed by Badporl. If you find inconsistencies or errors, please message her. I do not edit my own works.

“Uhm, first off, bitch.” Amethyst grins, both surprised and slightly turned on by Pearl just _asserting_ so boldly that she's staying the night. They enter the living room, poorly lit by a small lamp next to the loveseat. “Don't you mean 'can I stay the night, _please_?'”

Pearl looks down to the other, with a remarkably unreadable expression that makes Amethyst nervous. 

“Are you saying you don't want me to stay?”

“Now you KNOW the answer to that question.” She grins, rocking back and forth from heel to toe. “I'm just surprised you would be so...insistent.”

A shy smile creeps onto Pearl's lips. “I thought I would try it out. Besides, I still owe you, don't I?”

Amethyst's face goes blank, having forgotten about the paid tab at the bar.

“Whuh?” She squints hard, as if altering her vision will help her remember.

“Hrrmm..” Pearl grunts, preferring not to verbally acknowledge her drunken burden. 

“OH.” Amethyst bursts suddenly. “Right. Yeah. You owe me.” The grin returns. “Big time. Whatcha got in mind?”

For more time than Pearl would care to admit, her mind wanders into the metaphorical gutter to thoughts of repaying Amethyst in a... less than appropriate, conceivable manner. She quickly shoves the intrusive fantasy aside and struggles to come up with anything mundane. 

Dinner is a possibility, but Pearl isn't necessarily in the mood to eat. She almost never is. So then she thinks of services she can offer. 

“...I can organize your apartment.” She says quickly, casting her gaze elsewhere so she doesn't have to see Amethyst's look of disappointment.

“Wow. Are you saying I'm messy? How fuckin' rude.” She cackles, moving past her guest and slam-dunking herself onto the loveseat. She reaches for her xbox controller, turning it on promptly. “Got any other suggestions?”

Pearl can't help but feel a little disappointed that Amethyst is electing the play on her xbox; there are better things they could do. She crosses her arms huffily, following suit towards the couch. 

“What's that look for, huh?” Amethyst drawls, observing Pearl's unmistakably grumpy face. 

“I thought we could... do something. Together. Since I'm here.” She remarks with clear discontent lacing her tone. She isn't going to stay the night if Amethyst is going to ignore her for video games.

“I'm putting on some music.” She smiles, reveling in Pearl's hinting irritation. “Gotta set the _mood_.”

“...Excuse me?” Pearl questions, knowing perfectly well what she meant and that it was a joke, but silently praying that Amethyst is 100% serious. 

With a precocious brow waggle in Pearl's direction, Amethyst stretches out, popping her spine several times and groaning. “Ureghh.. fuck... my back.” She whines, going limp again on the sofa. 

Swallowing the pain, she squints up at her guest. “Yeah... the mood.”

“Are you okay?” Pearl raises, noticing the poorly disguised pain behind Amethyst's cheap grin. 

“Yeah yeah... I just have the back of a 90 year old. I'm good.” She lies, wincing slightly. “And hey! Don't change the subject! What do I get for paying off your alcoholism?”

She folds her arms, electing to avoid the jab at her drinking problem. Then it hits Pearl, and without thinking of any risqué implications it might garner, she spits out her offer. “I can rub your back.”

They stare at each other; Pearl's face, morphing in and out of horror and a pathetic attempt to seem nonchalant in her content. Amethyst, on the other hand, doing just as Pearl had feared, adopting a look of promiscuity at the suggestion. 

“You mean like... a _massage_?” She asks, adding too much emphasis on the word.

“...Eeeeyesss...” Pearl drags, suddenly regretting her impulsive proposition. 

“Your back. Since it's... in pain. Yes. Your.. back.” She specifies, doing little to hide her discomfort and scratching the back of her neck at an itch that doesn't exist. Under Amethyst's knowing gaze, Pearl decides to add insult to injury and start to ramble whatever comes to mind. “In ballet... I uh. I mean we all give each other... massages before warm-ups. Because massaging is the act of relieving stress and muscle tension that builds from being inactive...” 

Amethyst's expression drops from its baiting assertions, as if weighing whether or not a massage would be sufficient compensation for a paid bar tab. Pearl, on the other hand, feels each second passing hot under her skin. Why did she have to blurt out such an awkward offer? She can only hope that if Amethyst accepts it, she'll behave. Pearl isn't drunk enough for anything gamey.

The shorter woman scratches her head, becoming more and more aware of the pain coursing through her back. Being in the ring earlier and the night before definitely made things worse. She looks to Pearl's hands, as if observing them would help her come to a decision. She'd really love for Pearl to touch her, but the fact still stands that they're both sober and that massaging can be a fairly intimate gesture... or maybe she's over-thinking this whole thing. 

Pearl is sweating bullets in anticipation; Amethyst really seems to be giving this a lot of thought. 

“Do I gotta... do anything weird?” Amethyst asks, pouting slightly.

Pearl, at first, is confused at the question. “...Wha--?”

“Y'know... like... do I gotta take off my--”

“NO. No. You can... keep all your clothes on. Please.” Pearl says quickly, trying to neglect the small part of her that wanted to say yes. All of this anxiety over a simple massage. She does this to other girls in ballet, what makes this any different? Probably the fact that she wants to bang Amethyst.

“Yeah, alright. Fine.” Amethyst says coolly, as if she hadn't just spent several hot seconds fretting over the same sexual tension Pearl was. “I suppose I shall accept your... _services_ as payment.” She smiles coyly. “Where do ya' want me, _nurse_?”

Pearl is relieved at the return of Amethyst's minimalist snark, calming down significantly. Maybe this won't be as weird as she thought. “Um... well, your couch is a bit low for me to bend down and do it, can we do it on your bed?”

Amethyst face goes blank as she shoves down her witty comment about 'doing it on a bed'. 

“...Because the bed is higher and I won't have to strain myself bending forward.” Pearl adds, as if knowing what comment Amethyst had planned. 

“So picky.” Amethyst sighs with a grin, getting up off the couch and stretching before leading Pearl into the bedroom. 

The bedroom is dark. Pearl remains in the doorway per Amethyst's instruction. After a few seconds, the Christmas lights strung up around the room are plugged in, bringing better illumination. It's odd; this is Pearl's second time in here and she's only just noticing that Amethyst's bed has a deep violet bedspread. Purple is such an odd color for someone of Amethyst's... personality. Then again, Pearl hardly knows the woman. 

The music is faint now; they can just barely hear it, softly coming from the vent above Amethyst's bed. 

Amethyst invites herself onto her own bed, sprawling out on her stomach and stretching once more; earning several pops from her spine. Pearl steps into the room. Somehow the Christmas lights make things seem... intimate. She swallows her observations, not wanting Amethyst to get a sense of her anxiety. 

“How long does this stuff go on for?” Amethyst asks, popping one eye open and looking up at her guest. 

Pearl never really considered a time frame, so for a moment she contemplates how she should convert drinks to massage time. She brings up a hand to her chin, rubbing it pensively. “I suppose... since you paid for eight... I could do 5 minutes per drink. That's 40 minutes.”

“What?! Really? That long? What if I get bored?!” She retorts, obviously having calculated the length of a proper massage to be shorter. 

“I... I suppose then we could stop when you're... satisfied?”

Amethyst smiles viciously. “Oh? When I'm _satisfied_ huh?”

Pearl's heart flat lines. Or at least it feels like it. “...Yes?” She's really on a roll tonight with creating sexual tension. 

“Mmm. Okay.” She concedes, closing her eyes and crossing her ankles. She folds her arms beneath her head, choosing to neglect the pillows just inches above her head. She really is quite small in comparison to a queen sized bed, as Pearl observes. 

“No no no.” Pearl says. “You have to have your arms down at your sides.” She explains, gently tugging on Amethyst's upper arm to encourage her to get into proper position. 

“What? Why? That'd be uncomfortable!” She argues without opening her eyes. “Have you SEEN my rack? I'm not laying on those I'll straight up die.” 

Swallowing her blush, Pearl squints down at her. “You have to have your arms down. If you have them crossed like that under your head it just stretches and tightens your muscles even more. When they're down at your sides in a more... natural position, it helps me reach trouble areas better.”

“How the fuck do you know?” Amethyst challenges, refusing to move from her position.

“I have to know basic muscle structure to be in ballet!” Pearl argues. “Use a pillow to keep your head up! It's right there!” She gestures, staring at the plush pillows resting near Amethyst.

“Urgh... fine.” She grumbles. Pearl rolls her eyes, finding the small argument to be so frivolous. 

When Amethyst has made purchase over the pillow and gotten comfortable, Pearl weaves her fingers together, cracking them respectively while surveying Amethyst's back. Admittedly, it will be a little harder to do this if Amethyst leaves her clothes on, but she's not bold enough to request her to take her shirt off. 

“Do you have any uh... bruises I should be aware of?” Pearl asks, not wanting to apply pressure where it would hurt Amethyst. She doesn't know if cage fights have earned her any... special back aches. Pearl reaches forward, brushing aside Amethyst's mane to get better clearance.

“Uhm... I don't... I don't know?” She admits. “If I do I guess we'll find out.”

“I'd rather not 'find out' by rubbing one the wrong way.” Pearl say frankly. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“I'll be fine! Would you quit being so picky already?” She cackles. “Maybe I _like_ pain.” Amethyst drawls, observing Pearl with one eye. “Sounds to me like you're chickening out.”

“How could I 'chicken out' when I'm the one that offered the... massage... in the first place?” Pearl scoffs, stepping forward so that she's peering directly down at Amethyst's displayed back. 

“Hrrrmmm...” 

Timid at first, Pearl finally pokes her spindly digits into the area between Amethyst's shoulders, surveying just how tense she is. And she is met with distinct tightness that she immediately identifies as inflammation. 

“Has your back... always been like this?” Pearl asks, hardly believing what her fingers are feeling. She continues her examination down the length of Amethyst's spine, utterly amazed at how Amethyst is able to function at all with such tension. 

Under Pearl's slight touches, Amethyst can feel herself heating up; mostly from the foreign sensations. She'd never been given a massage. It's weird being touched for any other reason that isn't sexual. 

“Uh... how do you mean?” 

“It's so... tight.” She breathes, kneading her hands into Amethyst, exploring deeper. 

Amethyst has to mentally kick herself for allowing her mind to wander on Pearl's words. Even the most gentle of pushing on her back is enough to make her melt; no wonder massage therapists charge $100 an hour for this shit. Without realizing it, a pleasured groan escapes her.

“I haven't even really started, yet.” Pearl responds, somewhat caught off-guard by the noise. Amethyst lacks the capacity for a comeback, having tasted a small bit of what's to come, even if Pearl wasn't trying, just the slight poking alone felt great.

Pearl's hips rest against the bed as she contorts herself to get a better angle; in symmetrical movements, her hands work up to Amethyst's shoulders, beginning a proper massage with firm pressing and ebbing, which apparently Amethyst approves of, going by the inappropriately loud and drawn out moaning. 

At this, Pearl can't help but smile. Amethyst is like a cat, purring loud at the slightest attention. 

She remains focused on Amethyst's upper back, as its where most of the tension is fixated. As her hands do most of the work, her eyes decide to wander the room. Not being in the grips of a hangover provides her with better awareness this time. 

Amethyst's bed has end tables on either side; one holding a simple digital alarm clock with a small mesh cup filled with hair ties and pencils, and a notebook with scratchy handwriting that may be song lyrics. 

On the other table, a lava lamp, a long-shaped box with no labels, a stack of magazines and a jar of loose change. 

There are so many pairs of boots lining the opposite wall that Pearl completely skips any attempt to count them. Amethyst's band posters remain numerous; with names Pearl has never heard of. The dresser has another lava lamp on top, a small earring holder filled with different accessories, a cup filled with guitar picks, a figurine of that weird elf kid from a video game she's seen before, and a photo frame, lying on its face. 

Amethyst's computer desk is a hot mess of wires, screens, and a small number of disc cases. She must use this for composing?

The closet is closed; and on a small table in the corner next to the bookshelf is one of those serenity fountains; but it's currently turned off. Amethyst seems to enjoy dark colors and ambiance; going off of the candles, Christmas lights, and lava lamps. She must enjoy having a calm environment; which Pearl can definitely mesh with. 

“--Erh...”

Pearl snaps her attention back to her patient at the small noise. “What?”

“Nnnh.. can you uh...” Amethyst asks, refusing to open her eyes. From where Pearl is standing, Amethyst looks absolutely exhausted, but relaxed, nonetheless. 

“Am I being too hard?” She asks, stopping her ministrations and leaning down closer to hear better.

“Mmm... no... could you go... I mean can you be more uh...” She struggles. “Can you go harder?” She mumbles, a tinge of blush lining her cheeks. 

“I suppose... but I'll need better leverage.” Pearl admits, finding the awkward angle to be problematic. 

“Leverage?” Amethyst echoes, her voice heavily laced with fatigue. She forces one eye open, looking to the intimidatingly beautiful woman standing over her. 

“Yes... like... like this.” She says, boldly putting aside her nerves and climbing on top of Amethyst. Pearl can feel Amethyst's body go tense from the sudden invitation into her personal space; but as soon as Pearl's hands are restored to her back, she slowly begins relaxing again; melting under her touch. 

The angle proves much better; and within a few minutes, she's skillfully using her elbow, digging into Amethyst's torso with every bit of menial strength she has in her. The change in position apparently pays off, as Amethyst soon dissolves into a sleep-like trance; her breathing becoming steady and rhythmic. Pearl's amused smile returns, working against Amethyst's aching body expertly.

As time wears on, however, Pearl is becoming more an more aware of how difficult Amethyst's clothes are making this. Without indicating the motive, Pearl hands slip down the length of Amethyst's back, gripping the hem of her shirt and making a small tugging gesture. 

Surprisingly, without arguing, Amethyst lifts herself an inch from the bed so that Pearl can push the shirt up all the way, stopping just above below her shoulders and exposing her skin fully; save for the bra. 

Pearl swallows dryly; it may not be a fancy bra but its still a bra and this is about as physically intimate she's ever been with anyone. It takes some mental cajoling on her part to stay focused; she re-applies her finger tips to the areas beneath Amethyst's shoulder blades, working firmly against the tissues until Amethyst resumes purring; or moaning... whatever it is. 

Her muscles are so tight that Pearl simply cannot fathom how Amethyst can function; and between her rolling and pinching muscles, it comes to her attention that Amethyst's skin is rather dry.

“Do you have any lotion?”

“Why, do you wanna jack off?” Amethyst retorts without missing a beat. 

Pearl grumbles a little, slapping Amethyst's skin lightly as a reprimand. 

“Urgh... maybe? There might be some in the hall closet with the towels... I only ever get lotion if they're given to me as a lame Christmas gift.” She explains groggily. 

“Would you mind if I used it?”

Amethyst is quiet for a moment. “Sure.”

It's a mixture of relief and disappointment when Pearl has to climb back off to go scour for supplies; on one hand, she enjoyed being on top of Amethyst and feeling her warmth, on the other hand she can't shake the subtle feeling of... expectation. Are things always going to be so sexually frustrating? Even simple things like this?

Opening the hall closet presents Pearl with limited options. A small basket on the bottom shelf holds 2 travel-sized bottles of lotion; one that is 'fresh' scented... whatever the fuck that's supposed to be. And vanilla. 

It doesn't take a lot of deliberation to choose vanilla.

Just as soon as the door is closed, her eyes wander to the direction of the kitchen; immediately invaded by thoughts of getting a drink... 

Glancing back to Amethyst's bedroom, she decides that if she's quick, Amethyst wouldn't notice how long she'd been gone, nor would she care given how lethargic she is right now. 

Like a teenager taking extra care to sneak passed their parents bedroom at night, Pearl slinks her way down the hallway, loosening her posture as she nears the fridge. Taking one last glance to the hallway to make sure, she cautiously opens the fridge.

To no surprise at all, there's literally nothing but alcohol; save for a bottle of ketchup and a half gallon of expired milk. What does she live off of..? 

Casting aside her awe, she goes straight for the vodka; uncapping it and mentally preparing herself for the awful taste. She shouldn't be so paranoid about getting caught, but again, she looks to make sure she's the only one in the room. 

As soon as the bottle touches her lips, her nerves seem to unclench instantly; assured by liquid comfort. 

She nurses it for several minutes, ignoring the subtle burning in her throat and trying to get as much down as possible before she's gone for any suspicious amount of time.

The clock near the door ticks softly, and for a small moment, Pearl contemplates if any of this is normal. This situation. Is this how people meet? Is this how relationships form? From drunken sleepovers followed by constant sexual tension made worse by a supposedly 'innocent' massage?

Or perhaps she just over-thinks everything. Perhaps she should just... let things happen. Throw caution to the wind and ride things out.

After savoring one last drink from the bottle, she swiftly applies the cap, returning it to the exact spot she pulled it from. Having not eaten in a while, she effects are almost instant, and she can feel a delightful heat coursing through her body.

Turning around to retrace to the bedroom, she notices Amethyst's cat; _Cunt Destroyer_ , perched on the sofa, eyeing her as if she were prey. 

They have a stand-off. Pearl looking to the creature as if she had something to prove, the other simply staring Pearl down through lidded eyes; tail swaying and flickering with a certain intimidation. Pearl likes cats, and honestly she would pet Cunty were she not fearful of getting attacked. She wonders what she could have done to make Cunty so defensive; after all, animals are believed to have a sixth sense. There must be something upsetting about Pearl to make the cat so distrustful. 

Moving on from the momentary distraction, Pearl returns to Amethyst's bedroom with lotion in hand. 

Amethyst, despite Pearl's nagging about proper massage positions, has brought her arms back up and rests them beneath her head. But Pearl doesn't feel like correcting this again, and elects to ignore it entirely. Amethyst seems completely relaxed; to the point where she looks as if she may be asleep. That is, until her eyes open, looking to Pearl with a tired gaze.

“This is getting pretty sensual, Pearl, are you sure this is just a 'massage'?” She questions sleepily, stifling a yawn. 

“How do you figure?” Pearl returns, reclaiming her spot on top of Amethyst and pushing the shirt back up. She looks to the bra clasps in front of her, knowing that having to maneuver around it will be annoying. 

“Lotion. Me, half naked beneath you. Door closed. Lights dimmed. Slow music.” She lists; it is only then that Pearl really noticed the music playing... it does seem a bit... implying. She shrugs it off, regardless, refusing to let Amethyst's playful harassment get to her. 

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Pearl baits, placing a bold hand over Amethyst's bra clasp. 

“Psh.. no...” Amethyst lips, honestly surprised at Pearl's sudden shift in behavior. The hand is a bit more unnerving than she'd ever care to admit. 

At this, Pearl can't resist smiling. “Then be quiet.” She whispers, swiftly undoing the clasp between her fingers, pushing Amethyst's sanity closer to the edge.

After warming the lotion between her hands, she begins working from the top down; and for no other reason than to tease Amethyst. And to top it off, she's agonizingly slow and attentive in her motions; making sure to give every square inch of her skin equal treatment. Movements smooth and steady despite the pulsing, unnerving heat building inside.

“Holy fuck this is better than sex.” Amethyst groans, drawing Pearl's attention back from her mental fog. 

Pearl, not having the experience to compare the two, simply hums. “I'll take that as a compliment.”

“Mmm... I can't wait to find out what else you can d—uuhh... nevermind.”

“Nice save.” Pearl grins, continuing the treatment. Whether it's the vodka or her own impulsive behavior, she leans forward, ghosting a soft kiss over Amethyst's shoulder. And just as Pearl had hoped, she can just barely hear a small, frustrated sigh coming from the woman beneath her. 

And now it becomes a game for Pearl. What can she get away with until Amethyst reaches her sexual tension breaking point? 

Hands shift down the frame of Amethyst's body, catering to her curves delicately until they come to rest over her hips, which she so tactfully massages. The vodka is making quick progress; thanks to her empty stomach, and Pearl can feel herself loosening significantly. Becoming more daring. 

Amethyst, sensing the deliberate placement of Pearl's hands, becomes painfully awake, and painfully frozen. The sensation of her hands alone are enough to drive her crazy; but the added pressure of Pearl sitting on top of her is what makes it hard to think, let alone breathe. Now, there is a fine line between innocent massage and sexual implication; and to top it off, Amethyst can hardly keep her raging libido in check. 

Pearl, sensing Amethyst's unrest, can't contain herself from grinning maliciously. And with the most subtle of movements, she gracefully rolls her hips against Amethyst's ass. Being in ballet provides Pearl with enough know-how and skill to make it agonizingly smooth. 

“AHAHAHA. FRESH!” Amethyst says loudly, rolling out from under Pearl, causing her to lose her balance for a moment. 

“What? But I haven't finished.” Pearl says, faux innocence lacing her tone. 

“You ain't slick.” Amethyst blushes, holding her bra in place.

“What ever are you talking about?” Pearl replies, suddenly feeling very predatory at the sight of Amethyst, flustered and holding thin fabric desperately to prevent a slip of indecency. 

“You're getting pretty feisty all of the sudden.” Amethyst bites back, admittedly turned on by Pearl's boldness. 

“Am I?” 

“Mhmm. I bet it's all just an act, though.”

“How do you figure?” 

“Uh, like I SAID. You. Ain't. Slick.” Amethyst drawls. “I know what you were REALLY doin' when you were supposed to be getting 'lotion'.” She grins, observing Pearl as her facade crumbles.

“So? Big deal. I was thirsty.” She puts simply. “I was getting water.”

“You're a TERRIBLE liar.” Amethyst observes, taking a moment to fasten the clasps on her bra again. 

Pearl rolls her eyes, weighing her options. She can continue to lie, admit the truth or ignore the implications entirely. Decidedly, she goes for the latter.

“Are you going to let me finish or have you had enough?” 

“I think the real question is have YOU had enough?” Amethyst comes back, still holding that ridiculous grin. “You seem to have something else in mind than just rubbing my back.”

“Hrrmmm... I was just playing.”

“Playing, huh? Didn't take you ask the type who liked _those_ kinds of games.”

“What do you mean 'those kinds'?” She mocks. “I was just repaying a favor.”

“You're a teeeeease.” Amethyst lodges, deciding to lean back coolly onto the headboard. “You like playing games and stringing people along to create sexual tension.”

“Do I really seem like the type who would be clever or bold enough to do that? Get real.” Pearl says smoothly, now feeling the full effects of the vodka. She really can't hold her liquor... “I lean more towards... harmless games.”

“What, like Scrabble?” Amethyst chides, resting her hands behind her head. “Puzzles don't count, sweetie.”

“Puzzles can be a game if you do it with multiple people.” Pearl defends.

“The only way I can see a puzzle EVER being fun is if I get to drink shots whenever I match two pieces together.” She admits, relaxing her grin into a snide smile. 

“You wouldn't get very drunk, then.” Pearl retorts, trying to keep her eyes from wandering to Amethyst's chest area but failing miserably. 

“Ouch.” Amethyst cackles. “You got me. Luckily, though, I'm not dumb enough to waste my money on that garbage.”

“Right, you're dumb enough to waste your money on buying alcohol instead of buying real groceries.” She returns flatly. “Then what games DO you play?” She asks snobbishly. “And video games don't count.”

“Urgh, what? But... all other games are boring. No one gets a rush from playing _Monopoly_. Not unless they wear dentures and watch Matlock before their 8 o'clock bed time.”

“I didn't say they had to be board games. For example... there's verbal games, such as... 20 Questions... Never Have I Ever, Two Truths and a Lie, Would You Rather... uhm.. Truth or Dare... Make it or Break it..?”

“Oh... hey. Truth or dare sounds fun.” Amethyst interjects with almost too much enthusiasm. 

“What? ...You mean like right now?” Pearl questions, caught off guard by the change in course. For a moment she entertains the idea; it'd give her an opportunity to pick Amethyst for truths under the guise of a simple game... then again, Amethyst seems like the type to consistently choose dares.

“Yeah. I mean... unless you're _chicken_.” 

“If you think you can cajole me into playing your little game by insulting me, you're doing a poor job of it.”

“Oh. You'll play, alright.” Amethyst concedes with confidence.

“I will?” Pearl replies haughtily. “How do you figure?” 

“Because I'll make it interesting for you.” She asserts. “Well, for both of us.”

“And how will you achieve that?” 

“Because I'll involve alcohol somehow.” Amethyst explains, biting her lip as she thinks of the possibilities. “How about just... I dunno'... we take a sip at the end of each truth-slash-dare. And if you successfully do a dare, you get two sips.”

“Hmm...” Pearl considers, weighing her options. She's already a fraction of the way to being drunk, so maybe within a few successful rounds, she could get drunk enough to have the courage to... do things. But is she being too foolish? Shouldn't she do this sober? It might be a good idea to get to know this woman outside of her drunken predilections... but something about Amethyst is just so provoking. So... tempting.

Too tempting. So tempting that Pearl has to be drunk to be bold enough to try anything. 

“Very well. I accept your conditions.” She agrees, and before Amethyst can celebrate, Pearl moves to speak again. “But what uh... what is... out of bounds?” She asks carefully, hoping Amethyst will get the hint. 

“Uh... nothing is 'out of bounds', don't be boring, Pearl.” She cackles with air quotes, slipping off the bed. “Wait here, I'll go get _the goods_.”

Pearl's anxiety returns immediately. 

Does this mean Amethyst can dare her to strip? Or dare her to do other more intimate things? Or maybe the penalty of not doing a dare just means she wont get to drink. 

Yes, that seems like a much more sound game condition. 

After several anxiety-filled seconds, the shirtless woman returns, several kinds of liquor in her arms. She dumps it onto the bed carelessly. 

“Are you going to put your shirt back on?” Pearl asks, successfully masking her unrest. 

“Nope. Why? Am I making you _uncomfortable_?” She drawls, eyeing Pearl knowingly.

“No, I just figured you must be cold.” She lies. 

“Right. Well, then.” She smirks, taking her rightful spot on the bed against the headboard. “Who goes first?”

“I believe I should get to go first. I am the guest, after all.” Pearl decides, taking a moment to observe the choice 'beverages' Amethyst came back with. Vodka, a bottle of cheap wine, Jack Daniels, one bottle of Screwdriver, and some Kahlua. Then comes the task of deciding on a truth and dare for Amethyst. She should probably start small. She doesn't want Amethyst to think this will be an easy game. 

Amethyst seems relaxed; cockily so, eyeing Pearl as if she's already predicted her lame strategy. 

“Truth, or dare?” Pearl asks simply, trying her best to ignore the other woman's smug expression.

“Hmmm... truth, I guess.”

“Really?” Pearl asks, clearly surprised. “Alright then... what do you plan to do with your life?”

“AHAHAHA... uhhh.. fuck...I dunno... work until I die?”

“That's an unacceptable answer.” Pearl furrows. “You have to have some kind of... goal... an aspiration? Something you would like to accomplish?”

“Wellllll... huh...” She stops, genuinely stumped at the contemplation and staring to the ceiling for answers. 

Pearl watches with a silent appreciation; Amethyst is beautiful. Even more so when she looks so focused on her own thoughts... and being shirtless doesn't hurt, either. 

“I guess if I wanted one thing out of life it would be to get my own home somewhere in the O.C.. Hell yeah... somewhere close to the beach so I can surf.”

“You can surf?” Pearl asks, further surprised by the collection.

“What?! AHAHA. No... But I wanna learn. And I really love the beach.” She admits with a goofy grin. Her attention is cut short, however, as she returns back to the reason she was asked in the first place. “Right, well, is that a good enough answer?”

“Yes.” Pearl confirms, watching the other woman snatch up the bottle of Jack. 

“Awesome.” She smiles, uncapping it and taking a swift gulp of amber liquid. When she's finished, she's all too eager to serve her turn. “Truth, or daaaaaare?”

“Truth.” Pearl returns, seeing the immediate disappointment paint itself onto Amethyst's face.

“Figures.” The shorter woman huffs. “Alright then... I guess I could follow your example and ask a boring question. 

“Forgive me for not immediately asking you the most intimate questions I can think of right off the bat.” Pearl drones, eyeing the leftover bottles of alcohol. 

“Right. Well... when did you become an alcoholic?” 

The question admittedly takes Pearl by surprise. Is Amethyst really so bold as to jump right into such sensitive material?

“I... uh... I wouldn't go as far as calling myself an 'alcoholic'...” She says carefully, keeping her eyes trained elsewhere and silently damning Rose for being so careless with personal information. “Hnn... why do you wanna know that?”

Amethyst shrugs lazily. “Just somethin' I wanna know, I guess.”

“Well... I guess I was 13 at the time...” She begins, conjuring up old memories that she'd prefer were forgotten. “When I was first introduced to getting 'inebriated'... my parents own a Vineyard, and I guess I grew up with alcohol at my disposal at all times. My parents began to have marital issues; mostly concerned with ways to run the business... I was too young to understand, so the details are a bit fuzzy... but I'm pretty sure that they just had a more than fair share of disagreements.” Pearl takes a curious glance to her audience; mostly to confirm that she is paying attention. 

“Anyways, when I turned 13, they decided to let me have my first wine... supervised, of course. My birthday party was a massive, frivolous expenditure on my parents part. I'm certain they used my birthday as another reason just to throw another party. They loved hosting. Anyways... eh... it was just... they started arguing and...” She pauses, having to concentrate harder to remember such bleary memories. 

“Things got out of hand. I don't remember the details I just know that my dad had to go somewhere else for the night and I was upset that they couldn't hold off their differences, even for my sake...”

“Wait wait wait... hold up. Your parents own a Vineyard? That's kinda rad. They must be loaded.”

Pearl grumbles a little, frustrated that Amethyst is focused on all the wrong details. “I suppose...”

“But uh... so anyways... your parents argued. Then what happened?” Amethyst presses.

“I grabbed a bottle of wine from the cellar, walked out to the horse barn, away from the party. I believe it was a bottle of _1970 Chateau Lafite Rothschild Pauillac Bordeaux_. I knew my parents cherished the bottle as if it were their second child, and that they were planning on reserving it for their 25th wedding anniversary. But I was just so angry... I stole it and drank the whole thing in the loft.” She admits, smiling fondly at her then childish form of revenge. 

“I fell asleep thereafter. I think it was... significant somehow. Because it was then that I started turning to alcohol for comfort.”

“Whoa... that's... that sucks...” Amethyst observes. “I guess you deserve two sips for that.” She adds with a weak smile. 

“I agree completely.” She hums, going straight for the vodka and immediately taking two large sips without cringing. “So then. Truth, or dare?”

“Truth.” 

“What did you do to me exactly? When you brought me here the first time? ...You know, while I was unconscious?”

“Psh... nothing.” Amethyst grins. 

“Is that the truth?”

“Mmm... well, I guess I can't lie...” She says quietly. “I mean... it was pretty uneventful. You were puking a lot so I was a bit preoccupied with that... buuuuut... when I did... eventually get you into bed... hnnn... you fell asleep immediately... and I was really turned on...and uh...”

“Did you..?!” Pearl half yells interjecting.

Amethyst snorts at the very suggestion. “HAHA. No... but I did uh... take care of some things.” 

“...I don't follow.” 

“Pearl. While you were asleep IIIIIIIuhhhh... touched... myself.”

The ballet dancer is silent, unsure of how to take the strange information. 

“It was a quickie though! It's not like I was there next to you jerkin' it all night!”

“OKAY. WELL. Alright then! Moving ON!!!” Pearl screeches. “Drink your drink.”

“Haha... wellll.. you wanted to know.” She teases, taking a drink of her whiskey. “So then, truth, or dare, Puuuuurl?”

“Truth.”

“Ugh... fine. Uhmm... when was the first time you... ya' know...”

Pearl squints. Hard. “First time I...???”

“You know... like... mmm...” Her voice trails off; using her hands to implicate the rest of her question. Her fingertips cast between her legs for a moment before Pearl understands the query.

“Oh... uh... no. I've never...” She admits sheepishly, hardening her grip on the vodka.

“...For real?”

Pearl twitches under observation. “Yes.” And she takes another hit from her bottle. “Truth, or dare?”

“Hmm.. I guess I'll mix it up a bit, then. Dare.” 

Pearl's lips curve in amusement. Her idea of a dare may be a bit amateur, but she's not quite ready yet to forsake her innocent facade just yet. “I dare you to take off your underwear... but keep your jeans on.”

“Pfft... What like... in front of you?”

“Obviously not... I'll close my eyes.”

“Yeah but like... I could just pretend to take them off and you wouldn't even know. That's a shitty dare, _sweetie_.”

Pearl groans. You can... provide me with evidence. Just... show me a small... peek of what you're wearing, and then I'll turn away and... why are you making this so difficult? Just do it!”

“Alright alright! Perv!” Amethyst wheezes. Swiftly, she unbuttons her jeans and pulls the zipper down, exposing a small portion of what appears to be plain black boyshorts with 'AEO' repeating along the hem. Pearl is all too eager to clamp her eyes shut after taking a gander for three agonizing seconds. 

“Right. Okay. Go ahead then.”

“Don't wanna watch, hm?” Amethyst teases. Pearl feels the mattress shift as she removes herself from the bed, and the sounds of Amethyst's jeans hitting the floor is enough to tempt Pearl into taking a peek, but alas, her nervousness wins, and in no time, Amethyst is pulling her jeans back on and encouraging Pearl with “The deed is done, weirdo.”

When Pearl opens her eyes, she's relieved to find her actually wearing jeans; and in her hand is the removed article in question. 

“Wanna hold em?”

“...I'm fine, thanks.” 

And so Amethyst tosses them to the floor, taking another sip of her whiskey. “Truth or dare.”

“...Truth.”

“UGH.” Amethyst grunts. “That's not fair. I did YOUR lame dare!”

“That's because you CHOSE dare! You didn't have to!” Pearl argues.

“Fine then! Uh... mmm.... what is... your ultimate sexual fantasy?”

“How am I meant to answer that if I've ne--”

“You don't have to have sex to have a fantasy!” Amethyst cuts in. “Don't play innocent. Just 10 minutes ago you were trying something on me, don't even try to act, _babe_.”

Pearl rolls her eyes for the hundredth time. Of course she's had fantasies but rarely are they ever... anything that exciting. “I... is that also entailing anything... kink-related...?”

“You mean you HAVE a kink?!” Amethyst clamors, sitting upright in excitement. “Nice...”

“Hnnngg...” Pearl weighs her options. She could just lie and say something generic or corny; as long as it's believable. Then again, she has nothing to gain from lying, and it'd be sort of like cheating; and she absolutely dislikes cheating in anything. The anticipation on Amethyst's face presses her to continue. 

“I... I guess I've always liked uh... the idea of doing _that_... outdoors... and uhm...” Pearl sighs, finding this harder to say than she'd initially thought. “Being um... restrained by the wrists... or blind...folded.” Her voice tapers off, waiting for Amethyst to come at her with whatever obnoxious teasing she may have. 

“...That's... wow...” Amethyst fumbles. “Uh... alright. Noted...” She says quietly, apparently too enamored by the fantasy to nit-pick. 

And so, Pearl earns another reward of disgusting vodka. “Truth, or dare?”

“Urgh... these jeans are... awkward...” Amethyst admits, shifting around awkwardly. “Okay uh... truth I guess.” 

“Right then. So... the evening I stayed here watching that... disgusting film... when we were... getting _intimate_...” She stops mid-question to evaluate Amethyst's attention; she seems to know exactly where this is going. “Had your friend not... interrupted... what were you planning on doing with me?” 

“That's the dumbest question I've ever heard.” Amethyst says flatly, staring pearl down with lidded boredom. “Are you really that dense or are you just confirming what you already know?” She asks, grinning lazily. 

“Just answer it.” Pearl commands, putting aside the sudden urge to slap Amethyst and kiss her hard.

“Okay well I was definitely going to fuck your brains out fo sho'.” She admits without hesitation. 

Naturally this causes Pearl to turn several shades of red in the face. 

“...I see.”

“Truth or dare.” Amethyst comes back, hardly giving any chance for Pearl to collect herself. She sips her whiskey thoughtfully, watching Pearl closely. 

“Dare.” Pearl admits bravely, hoping that Amethyst might find the kindness to go easy on her. 

“Oh really? Wow. How courageous of you.” Amethyst purrs, taking a moment to go over an undoubtedly extensive mental list of dares she has lined up. “Well.... I guess it'd only be fair to dare you to take off an article of your clothing.” 

Pearl's body tightens under the idea; scrolling through the possibilities. She's wearing a hoodie, a t-shirt, skinny jeans, and of course undergarments. Amethyst would have to be pretty bold to request anything other than her hoody. But Amethyst IS bold, and Pearl can assume she'd want to get straight to the good parts.

“But I have a better idea.” Amethyst adds, casting Pearl's train of thought out the window. “I dare you to let me handcuff you to the headboard.”

“...Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Amethyst trills, grinning maliciously again. “I dare you. To let me. _handcuff_ you. To the headboard.” She repeats slower, watching the color drain from Pearl's face with absolute rapture.

“I never should have told you about that.” Pearl admits. “Do you even own handcuffs? If so, why?”

“You're not the only one with kinks, _babe_ ” She replies, reaching into the bedside table drawer and rummaging around. She no sooner produces a pair of black metal cuffs. They seem to be the real deal, with a lock and everything. This isn't some cops and robbers toy she got out of a cereal box. The chain rattle slightly as she dangles the item in the air between them, looking to Pearl with feral intention.

Pearl, for a moment, shudders to think of all the times they'd been used before her. But a dare is a dare, and she'd hate for all this sexual build up to go to waste... especially when she hasn't had her fill of alcohol yet. She acquiesces, grunting something under her breath and crawling closer to the headboard. It's wrought-iron, with a, in Pearl's opinion, tastefully done, iron rods curving and swirling in all directions within the framework. Were she not about to be cuffed to them, she might take more time in observing them. 

“How many turns do I have to stay cuffed?” Pearl murmurs, leaning back into the board and looking into to Amethyst's intense stare. 

“How many turns do I have to not be wearing underwear?” Amethyst retorts.

“Until the game is over.” pearl explains without thinking of the consequences. She immediately knows what will come next,

“Then the same applies to you.” Amethyst renders, grinning proudly. “Grip the rails, please.” She teases. Pearl frowns, hating the potent aura of smugness emanating from her host.

“Very well then.” Pearl concedes, deciding it best not to let on how nervous she is. Her slender fingers wrap around whatever design she can make claim to without contorting her wrists uncomfortably, and soon the cuffs are applied. They're cold, and Pearl's wrists are so thin she could probably, with enough gritting, pull herself out of the cuffs, but that wouldn't be fair, nor would it be fun; and so she submits to the consequence of her dare.


	11. truth or dare part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aside from the onslaught of sexual tension and rapid decline of any self-control Pearl had to begin with, she comes to find out that Amethyst is more troubled than she'd let on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight Drinks is a fanwork intended for mature audiences only. If you are triggered by sex, drug abuse, violence, homosexuality, or pearlmethyst, you should probably hit the back button on your browser.
> 
> Quality checks performed by Badporl. If you find inconsistencies or errors, please message her. I do not edit my own works.
> 
> \---
> 
> Music for this chapter:
> 
> [Dayream All Night by the easies.](https://soundcloud.com/the-easies/daydream-all-night)  
> [Black River by ELKA.](https://soundcloud.com/elkaelka/black-river-elka)  
> [Watery Dreams by Mexico City Blondes.](https://soundcloud.com/mexico-city-blondes/watery-dreams-1)  
> [Thought That You'd Be Happy by so rare.](https://soundcloud.com/sorare/thought-youd-be-happy)  
> [Waiting Game by BANKS.](https://soundcloud.com/banksbanksbanks/banks-waiting-game-prod-by)

“How am I going to drink at the end of my turns?” Comes Pearl with a less than amused tone. Her wrists are bound to the headboard, as per her obeying a rather risque dare from Amethyst. She squints at the woman in question, watching her grab the vodka Pearl had claimed for herself prior. 

“Hmm... I guess I'll have to help you drink it.” She says far too confidently; her smile is something Pearl can easily relate to that of a preying wolf.

“And how can I trust your coordination? I don't want you spilling on my blouse.” Pearl argues. In reality, it's not the potential for a spill that concerns her, but the intimacy of such a gesture.

“I'm a musician for fucks sake. My coordination is second to none.”

“You know, this isn't going to be much fun for you. I can't really do any dares if I'm compromised like this.” She admits, hoping that the other woman will see the errors in such an indulgent dare.

“That's what you think.” Returns Amethyst, uncapping the vodka and leaning in dangerously close. “I'm just getting started.”

“Oh please.” Pearl scoffs, but before she can conjure further argument, the tip of the bottle is brought up to her lips by the other; were she not paying attention, it surely would have knocked her in the teeth. She tilts her head back slightly, eyeing the tip, and then the wielder suspiciously. 

“You get two sips, since it was a dare.” Amethyst reminds her. 

“I'm going to need a lot more than that if I'm going to get through this.” Pearl adds, sass intended. The bottle is gently offered against Pearl's lips, and regulated just so that she only is rationed the agreed upon amount. Fortunately the vodka is beginning to lose its burning effect; and Pearl fights back an unpleasant cringe.

“I should take a picture of this.” Amethyst comments, capping the bottle again and setting it between her legs absently. “Get it printed professionally and framed.”

“Don't you dare.”

“Are you telling me not to or are you telling me not to dare you to let me take a picture? Because I'm already plotting to make it into a dare.”

“You're insatiable.” Pearl retorts, rolling her eyes.

Amethyst, amused, lets out a small cackle. “You have no idea.” And for a moment, their eyes fix upon each other; and Pearl feels as if she is prey to a wolf. Amethyst's eyes are intimidating, and Pearl has to break eye contact; feeling her heart threatening to burst out of her chest. “Anyways, your turn.” 

Head swimming with possibilities and slight inebriation, Pearl has to gather herself, trying to resist her urges to jump right into the most intimate dares. “Truth or dare, then.”

Amethyst pretends to give it thought; for an annoyingly long time. “Truth.”

For some reason this is surprising to Pearl, but she digresses, already having a question prepared. “Alright. What would you like to do to me right now?”

The grin that adorns Amethyst's face says it all, but a look is just a look; and a look means nothing in this game. “Well... I'm not drunk enough to say exactly what I would do to you; but you can bet it involves you being naked.”

Despite Pearl's prediction of the other woman's risqué answer; her face only blushes harder. And Amethyst helps herself to a single sip from her selected alcohol. 

“Truth or dare, girly?” She prompts, continuing to take pleasure in the sight of an undoubtedly attractive girl, restrained to the bed. 

“Truth.”

“Man, you're screwed no matter what you choose.” She says bitingly. “Okay then, truth: Do you want me to kiss you?”

“What kind of question is that?” Pearl grimaces, hating such blunt and prying questions. “We've kissed before...”

“Yeah but you're all... helpless now. It'd be much hotter.” She explains frankly, absently twirling a section of jet-black hair around her index finger. 

“I suppose I can't argue with your... indelicate observation.”

“So the answer is yes.” Amethyst concludes, to which Pearl only nods to confirm. 

“No no no... you have to say it.”

“Say what? Yes?”

“No, that'd be too easy.” She purrs, leaning forward and unnerving several inches. “I want you to say it in a complete sentence.”

“This isn't English class. Complete sentences aren't necessary.” Pearl argues, finding the very thought of producing the sentence to be intimidating. 

“They are now.” Amethyst comes back slowly. Pearl becomes painfully aware of a warm hand resting on her thigh, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to seem at all frazzled by the touch. Aside from the assistance of alcohol, she is very much aroused, and very much wanting to kiss her.

She swallows hard, and her fingers curl around the wrought iron designs of the headboard; cool to the touch but quickly becoming warm under her desperate grip. 

“I...” Pearl struggles, hating the satisfied grin in front of her but also loving it just the same. “I want you to kiss me.”

“See? Was that so hard?” She teases; again, offering Pearl her reward of a single dose of vodka, which she's all too eager to accept. When she's finished, Amethyst leans back, away from her captive, resuming her previously aloof behavior. Her hand is also pulled away from Pearl's thigh; which is incredibly disheartening. 

“Aren't you going to..?” Pearl tries, looking with a confused suspicion.

“Am I gonna' what?” 

Amethyst is either completely oblivious, or gifted with an ability to be painfully coy. Regardless, she sits there, thinking, or at least appearing to think. Her eyes meander from Pearl, to the ceiling, to the wall, the floor, to the bed, and back to Pearl. It finally occurs to her what her guest was implying.

“Oh. Am I going to _kiss_ you?” She guesses, cupping her hand under her chin with blatantly obvious impudence. 

“...Yes.”

“Mmm, I'd love to.” Amethyst concedes. “But that would spoil the tension we're building here.” She adds. “But I guess you could dare me to kiss you.”

“I wouldn't give you the satisfaction.” 

“Just 5 seconds ago you were wondering if I would kiss you! I think if anyone here would be satisfied it's you!” Amethyst argues.

“Oh don't act so proud. You want to kiss me just as bad.”

“Do I?”

A small staring game takes place, each of them conveying challenge to the other exclusively through eye contact. Only lasting until Pearl is overtaken with her own frustration. She just wants a kiss for fucks sake. How would that _ruin the tension_?

“Truth or dare.” Pearl growls, relaxing back into the headboard. Her wrists are beginning to get sore; and now that she's been denied affection, she's incredibly frustrated.

“When is the last time you... touched yourself...”

The question was mostly to see if she could at all faze Amethyst with prying questions; but her attempt is in vain as Amethyst only finds a way to make her grin look even more menacing.

“Wow, P. You're getting' pretty bold.” 

Pearl feels as if her face is on fire. She regrets her question; merely thinking of the question and not the answer. And for a fraction of a second, visions of Amethyst pleasuring herself flood Pearl's consciousness; guilt follows soon after.

After indulging in the sight of several shades of crimson, Amethyst delights Pearl with the intimate information per her truth. “Hmm... the night you went back to the campus. I got home and was crazy horny. Do you want a play by play in GRAPHIC DETAIL?” She asks, wiggling her fingers in jest.

"That's hardly necessary." Pearl retorts.

Amethyst rolls her shoulders with a knowing smile as she helps herself to a single sip of her beverage. “Kay. Tee or Dee?”

“ _Tee."_

“Have you ever watched a porno?”

“Oh, please.” Pearl scoffs. “Is that all you got?”

“Answer it, then.” Amethyst croons; bating her eyelashes. 

“Of course not.” 

“Dang... really?” She questions, clearly in conflict as to if it's surprising or just as expected. There certainly are people who seem like they'd never watch porn, but there are also those same people that seem that way but really do. But Pearl doesn't seem the type to lie or cheat in a game, no mater how frivolous; so Amethyst settles, helping Pearl to her own alcohol as reward. 

After swallowing the burning liquid, she is quick to ponder on her next truth or dare options; settling on asking a dare; or rather hoping that Amethyst will choose as such.

“Truth or dare?” 

“Hmm.. dare.” 

_Score._ Pearl thinks. At this rate, this game of truth or dare is a competition to see how far she can press her luck. “I dare you to take those pants off.”  
“My oh my.” Amethyst challenges, throwing in a rather off-putting southern drawl as she does. “How daring of you.”

Pearl tries her best to hold her poker face-- which is successful for the most part. Amethyst slips off of the bed without much more teasing. Cerulean eyes can't resist indulging such fluid movements in Amethyst's hands; deftly unbuttoning her jeans and making short work of the zipper. The pants, however, stay on, and Pearl agonizes over such anticipation.

“Want me to do it slowly, huh?” Comes Amethyst, very much so aware of the other's intense gazing. “Never had a strip tease before?”

“It was a simple dare... to remove your pants. I don't recall ever requesting the specifics of how you achieve it.”

Amethyst mimics Pearl's ramble with her hand as she rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I got that. But I was asking you if you want to-- you know what, never mind. You made it awkward by questioning it. Next time you should just say a yes or a no.” She explains, dropping her pants with a rather bored expression. An unexpectedly loud thud accompanies them as they hit the wood floor. Something in her pockets?

Pearl wonders if maybe, despite Amethyst's vulgar nature about saying so, if Pearl is thinking too hard about this. Perhaps after a few more sips of alcohol she'll be able to loosen up. For now, all she can care to notice is Amethyst's thighs, and that for whatever reason, Pearl just wants to grip them hard and sink her teeth into them.

...Wait, _what_? What an odd thought to have. 

Amethyst takes two sips before slipping back onto the bed-- in such glory; of just her undergarments (Pearl had forgotten about her previous dare up to this point and refused to open her eyes until Amethyst had reapplied her boyshorts, much to Amethyst's dismay), a sight that Pearl could easily get used to. The baiting looks on Amethyst's face, however, she could go without. 

“You wanna' take a pic, huh?”

Before Pearl can grasp her own words, they slip through with a rather inebriated intonation. “I'd like to take ssssomething elsssse.” She suggests, eyeing Amethyst with clear intent; despite having never necessarily acted on any intent before in her dull life. Alcohol, coursing through her veins in familiarity, begging to provoke such indecent behaviors on her part. How she loves this feeling. This courage to act on impulse. 

Amethyst is obviously taken aback by the sudden shift in attitude, but delightfully so. 

“You can take whatever you want, _babe_.”

“You shouldn't make such blind statements.” She plays, suddenly enjoying the restraint from her handcuffs. She bites her lower lip, trying to contain herself. It wouldn't be any fun if she collapsed and disobeyed Amethyst's quote unquote 'building tension'. 

“Truth or dare?” Amethyst almost whispers; she's visibly becoming unraveled by the sight; and despite her absence of clothes, she finds the room to be getting quite warm. 

“Dare.” Pearl says simply without much thought. Anything to get more alcohol. Anything to feed the flames growing in her abdomen. 

“I dare you to take YOUR pants off.” Amethyst supplies, clearly with an air of premeditation. Of course this was coming; of course she'd want to get even. 

“And how do you suppose I do that?” Pearl retorts, jangling the chains of her cuffs against the headboard in example. “Grow another pair of arms?”

“If you did, I'd cuff those too.” She jests, leaning closer. “But I suppose I can help you out again.” And soon Amethyst's fingers are on the move, gently thrumming up the sides of Pearl's thighs; like a shark lurking in the depths before capturing its prey; the prey being the button of Pearl's jeans. 

A small gasp escapes her when the button comes undone, and her breath soon after hitches in her throat when the zipper soon follows. It's exciting; but also nerve-wracking. No one has even done this to her; been this intimate or close. And Amethyst's predatory behavior matching the look in her eyes is making her stomach flip and knot up. 

Hands pry at the hem of her jeans, teasing with gentle tugs and careless brushing against her hip bones. It takes about all Pearl has to keep herself in check; reminding herself of her liquid reward when it's over. She struggles to think what underwear she decided on today; but draws a blank. It's not something she consciously thought of; normally she just puts on whatever is at the top of her clothes drawer-- which she finds herself regretting most at this moment. She silently prays it wasn't something embarrassing like the ones with ducks on them. 

“Someone looks nervous.” Comes Amethyst again, drawing Pearl further into her own anxiety. The dark skinned girl leans in further, ghosting her lips over Pearl's flushed cheek. _“Am I making you nervous?”_

“...Hardly...” Pearl breathes, hanging onto her sanity by a fraying thread. 

“Really?” Comes Amethyst. Her hands, with little effort, yank Pearl's jeans with swift force from her waist down to her knees. Pearl can't withhold her gasp; which is just as Amethyst had wanted.. 

_Strange..._ , Pearl thinks, how much more exciting it is to have someone else undressing you. 

Amethyst's is mesmerized, it appears, by the full view of Pearl's exposed thighs. She'd seen them before; but she was a drunk mess at the time; or hungover the morning after. They're pale, and smooth, trembling slightly in either fear or anticipation... or both. She's delighted at the view; caressing down the length of them with warm fingertips. Leaving marks on them is definitely on her to-do list. 

“S-stop teasing. This wasn't part of the dare.”

“Nnnnyeh. Don't act like you ain't like it.”

“Your choice of words is so abhorrent I feel myself drying up.”

“So you're wet.”

“...Excuse me?”

“You said you were 'drying up', you'd have to be wet in the first place.” Amethyst explains, tightening her grip on Pearl's jeans. “Did I _moisten your loins_?”

Pearl cringes dramatically, grunting at the verbiage. “The words 'moisten' and 'loins' just finished the job. I'm practically the physical embodiment of the Sahara desert, now.”

“Pearl. You're ruining the mood.”

“What mood? I thought we were playing a harmless game?” 

“Harmless, huh? You won't be saying that by the end of the night.” 

“...Amethyst that sounds like a threat.” 

To Pearl's chagrin, Amethyst is quick to feed into the situation; and of course imply something of a more sexual nature. “It _is_ a threat.”

“You don't seem the type to follow through on their threats.” Pearl bites. “All bark, no biiiiIIIHH--!” Pearl's sentence becomes a cacophony of shock as her jeans are ripped off in one fluid movement. The sound of the fabric hitting the floor finalizes the completion of the dare. “Amethyst!”

“What? It was the dare.”

“Y-you...” She blunders, tugging on her restraints. “...Just gimme the drink.” 

“Ask nicely.”

“That's not part of the game. I do the dare. I get the drink. You _behave_.” Pearl explains, glaring through her swimming vision. 

“I was under the impression that you didn't want me to behave.” She needles back, gratifying Pearl with a helping of vodka. At this point, it's becoming easier to swallow such an abhorrent taste, which means her ability to follow any moral code of decency will begin to decline- just what she wants. 

“Truth or dare.” Pearl offers, derailing Amethyst's petulant behavior. She can't quite decide if she enjoys the tension, or fears it. In the face of fear, Pearl can become rather haughty, and anything but compliant...

“Dare. I think it's pretty obvious that this game is beyond truths now.” She claims smoothly, still taking in the sight of Pearl's thighs-- only furthering Pearl's self consciousness. To Pearl's relief, her panties aren't the ones with ducks on them; just pastel blue stripped. With Amethyst perched neatly between her legs, Pearl can only imagine the narrow selection of possibilities that can come of this. 

Pearl sighs, conjuring thoughts of what she can have Amethyst do. The minimal remains of clothing Amethyst wears would be too risqué to disrobe... for now.

“I uh.. hmm... I dare you to... nnn... touch me.” She breathes; it slipped out, and she hardly gave it any thought, and the look on Amethyst's face confirms that she should have been more specific on where. She must really be entering the no fucks given stage of her inebriation. 

“...Really now? You sure are playing hot and cold, P. Just a second ago you were so... dismayed at the loss of your pants. Now you want me to _touch_ you, huh?”

Pearl is unable to form an argument. Amethyst is right; pearl is being fickle and difficult. And now it's too late to retract her dare. 

“How ambiguous.” Amethyst observes. “You said to touch you, but you failed to give a specific location. I assume its up to my discretion.”

Pearl is admittedly more distracted by the choice of... vocabulary. Just several minutes ago she used the word 'ain't' and just now she used the word 'discretion'. Amethyst is a bundle of mysteries, for certain. Then again, it's bad to write Amethyst off as unintelligent just because she elects to speak like an urban white boy most of the time.

“Yes... you may decide on where to... place your hands.”

“Hands, as in plural. So I can use both hands.”

 _Dammit._ “Yes.”

“Hhh... fuck... you sure you wanna give me that much power?”

“Depends on what you do with it...” Pearl whispers, hardly able to shake the anticipation. She just wants Amethyst to ravage her; but at the same time, fears the sensation. 

Fingertips hover above Pearl's skin, contemplating the many possibilities of where to go; where to stake a claim. “You don't you don't have to play me in a game of T.D. Just to get me to touch you.” Amethyst drawls, eyes scavenging the girl beneath her. 

“I'll keep that in mind...” She breathes, wishing Amethyst would just do it already-- whatever and wherever it is. The heat between her legs beckons in plea and favor, but is Amethyst bold enough to make that decision?

Likely not, as hands travel beneath her shirt, softly prickling the skin over her ribcage; she's ticklish, but the pure electricity in Amethyst's touch is enough to omit her usual sensitivities. Amethyst seems both pleased, and alarmed at her discovery; Pearl's ribs are very prominent, and inwardly, Amethyst questions the hale of Pearl's health. 

However, her libido is in charge for now, and concerns for this girl's eating habits fails to take precedent. Pearl inhales; Amethyst's hands travel upward, careful to make sure Pearl is consenting for the charge. 

Amethyst could revel in building and feeding into the tension, but her patience is dwindling as she, for the first time since the beginning of their little game, considered what result could come of tonight. Are they going to have sex? Is Pearl capable of sleeping with someone she knows so little of? Is this meant to be a fling or something real? These questions, however demanding of answers, remain undisclosed. 

Wordlessly, Amethyst makes claim of the girl's breasts, over the bra of course; eliciting a surprised moan from the recipient. 

They're small, but undeniably firm; just enough for Amethyst to get a pleasing handful. She gets carried away, pushing on them gently and working her fingers into a thick grip. Pearl continues to make such bantam gasps, having never quite been gripped in such a way. Without much control over her own functions, her spine arches into the touch, and her eyes close, luxuriate of such physical delights. 

Just as soon as she's able to enjoy it, however, Amethyst's hands slip away, retreating over the length of Pearl's torso and leaving her deeply unsatisfied. Can she dare her to do that again next round? 

Amethyst takes her drink as expected, giving Pearl a look that says it all. _Truth or dare._ And so, Pearl once again visits her options, deciding that just as Amethyst had stated previous, truth is no longer an option; not if she wants things to escalate. 

“Dare me.”

Amethyst's smile reads satisfaction. I dare you to let me take that sweater off of you.”

Pearl's mind swims to the cuffs around her wrists. She would have to be unbound in order to achieve this. She gives Amethyst a questioning look. “Wouldn't that involve removing the cuffs?”

“Not if we're doing it my way.”

Pearl knows what this means-- she's not so drunk that her common sense is lost. “You are not destroying my sweater.”

“Then I guess you lose.” Amethyst purrs, adding a teasing flare to her statement. 

“...” Pearl glowers hard. It IS just a game... but if the game ends now then it wouldn't be very fun. Not only does it provide her the sweet reward if alcohol, but the bonus of possible... sexual gratification, if she's even willing to go that far. Pearl herself doesn't know just yet where she wants this to end up. 

“Will you be providing me with... replacement clothes?”

“You mean will I give you something of mine? Or take you out shopping for a new one?” She asks, seemingly in favor of the latter option, going by the tone of her suggestions. 

“Whichever... as long as I don't have to leave here in... nothing.”

No sooner than Pearl finished her sentence, Amethyst is skillfully leaning over the bed, reaching for her previously discarded jeans-- rummaging through their pockets for something. 

As soon as Pearl sees the tool, her anxiety skyrockets. 

It's a pocket knife.

It clicks, and the blade comes out in a snap. She eyes the device with caution.

“...I certainly hope that knife is for picking the blood out from under your fingernails.” Pearl says sternly, eyes locking onto Amethyst's. Her expression is enough to give unfavorable answer to Pearl's hoping. 

“C'mon, it'll be sexy...” She tries, tapping the blade against her own jawline. The sight of which, however... arousing, still doesn't soften the anxiety. 

“Not if you stab me!” Pearl argues, cringing away from the object in protest.

“Would you rather I just go John Cena on it and rip it off of you, huh?” She pressures, not entirely against the idea once she thinks on it. The fabric of Pearl's sweater does seem rather flimsy. 

Pearl groans a little; a sound mixed with sexual frustration and genuine concern. 

“Do you really think I would hurt you, huh?” Amethyst drawls, leaning in closer while keeping the blade away. Pearl is admittedly enticed by the very tone of Amethyst's question; and even more so by the small space between their lips. How she would so love to capture them at this moment. 

“I... that's not what I...”

“Then relax. It's just a game.” She lulls, bringing the blade forward. Whether it's the alcohol or her deep-seated desire to be ravaged, Pearl remains still, focused on the sharp tool being aimed at her chest. 

The blade rests on her collar for a moment; her sweater is a turtle neck, and the knife teases the fabric around her neck. Despite Amethyst being somewhat a stranger, she knows that nothing bad _should_ happen, but the fact that they have been drinking might be a red flag to call off the game. But despite Pearl's normally logical methods of thinking, she is compliant; remaining still as the tip digs into the fabric of her sweater. Is a game of truth or dare really worth destroying an article of clothing?

It's too late to arrive at a conclusive answer, because in one rapid movement, the knife slices down the midst of her torso, exposing her promptly. However, Amethyst is not finished; the shirt can't come off unless she slices through the sleeves as well, to which she has no qualms performing. The brief moments in which Pearl can hear her clothing being shredded brings her only a tinge of remorse; it was a nice shirt, after all. 

“Oops.” 

That is not something Pearl wants to hear. Especially when a knife is involved. She follows Amethyst's gaze down to her chest; not only did she manage to cut through what effete framework her bra had to offer, but a small cut into her skin is clearly prominent. It's not gushing with blood per say, but it is starting to percolate with redness. Despite the small injury, all Pearl can care about is the fact that not only did Amethyst destroy a perfectly good shirt, but her bra as well. 

It hasn't fallen away from her frame; having been... poorly endowed, the bra remains in place, but the fact still stands that she is completely at Amethyst's mercy-- and the idea, rather than frightening her, only excites Pearl further. 

For several moments, Amethyst isn't sure how to handle the situation. Is she meant to retrieve bandages? It's just a scratch-- and she certainly doesn't want to leave. Not when things were getting so good. She folds the knife, placing it wordlessly onto the bed next to her; all while refusing to tear her eyes away from the near naked woman in front of her. She looks to the girl in question for answers; and her face reads of a vacant lasciviousness.

“Looks like you've made a mess.” She comments with a light slur. The alcohol is working its magic, and she's not about to squander its volatile courage. “Clean it up.” Pearl commands softly. Small beads of crimson begin forming along the cut, and Amethyst is almost positive of how she's meant to 'clean it up.' She'd never thought Pearl to be so demanding or vulgar, but its a pleasurable surprise. 

“Is that a dare?”

“...Yes.”

Pleased by this, Amethyst lowers herself unto Pearl's chest with a grin; admiring such fair skin that only begs for more markings. “Then I suppose I gotta'.” She whispers, passing her lips just above the cut. Come to think of it, Amethyst has never actually had the opportunity of tasting another's blood; hopefully she can get through this without the cliché thoughts of teenaged romantic vampirism tropes.

Meanwhile, in the absence of common sense, Pearl shudders under Amethyst's presence; should Amethyst so chose, the bra can easily be discarded given the so-called accidentally severing of the bridge. She can only hope that Amethyst will disregard any intention to treat Pearl like the virgin she really is. She writhes only slightly; enough to get Amethyst to finally do something indecent- as if anything leading up to now were pure child's play. 

Or perhaps in the way things seem to be going it could be called foreplay...

In a dreadfully slow movement, Amethyst trails her tongue carefully over Pearl's minor cut. The sensation is definitely strange; a warm, wet presence tending between her breasts that for all Pearl cares, can stray from the path. She can't bring herself to look down; not only because the idea of witnessing the act itself may be too visually exhilarating, but as well as idealistic fodder for feeding into her slight neurosis about health codes and blood-borne pathogens...

For now, her eyes remain shut, focusing on lips now trailing up the length of her torso, to her collar and gently treating Pearl's neck to some rather heated oral gestures. It never crossed her mind that hickeys would be a concern, but when teeth are introduced, Pearl is quick to make a small groan in protest. 

“Mmmh... you can't. Not there...” She breathes, wishing she didn't have to interrupt-- but not only would it be troublesome for campus life to swarm with rumors of Pearl's chaste, but Rose absolutely can't know about whats going on-- not if Pearl wants to avoid yet another acrimonious lecture about her slipping morals. 

“That's boring.” Amethyst protests, nipping at porcelain skin a bit harder. The aftertaste of blood still fresh in her mouth is strangely gratifying, and the small but noticeable trembling coming off of the girl beneath her doesn't hurt either. 

“Can't you just... kiss me?” Pearl begs, “The game is practically over.”

“No it ain't.” Amethyst lulls softly, caressing Pearl's frame while grazing her teeth over Pearl's skin. This assault on Pearl's senses is maddening-- and what makes it worse is that Amethyst is maintaining her 'this is a game' facade. “Unless you forfeit.”

Pearl breathes a sigh of frustration and urgency. She hates to lose, but she hates being deprived of satisfaction just as much. She tugs at the bonds around her wrists, resounding with the pitch of chains making contact with the iron bed frame. Does she want sex? Would it be appropriate? Wouldn't that be against whatever morals Pearl thought she had about getting to know someone first? Can she even handle the emotional aspect of coitus?

After making a mental note to herself to never use 'coitus' as a term to describe sex with Amethyst, she is soon asked the foreseen question: “Truth or dare?” Only it's done in an agonizingly sensual manner; Amethyst's lips just barely skirting around the skin of Pearl's shoulder. 

Perhaps out of some desire to torture Amethyst back to some degree over her decision to continue this ruddy game, Pearl chooses “Truth.”, and to her slight annoyance, Amethyst seems just as pleased as if Pearl had chosen a 'dare'. She feels as if this isn't a multiplayer game anymore, but a twisted vocation on Amethyst's part to drive Pearl fucking insane.

“Hmm... truth. Do you want me to _fuck_ you?” The question itself is unsettling on its own, but just the way Amethyst says it makes Pearl's face start to feel like it's on fire. This is a question she'd been asking herself and never really coming to any sort of conclusion. To be put on the spot with the question directly from Amethyst only intensifies her anxiety. 

“How are you going to fuck her if you don't have the tools for the job?”

At the addition of a third voice in the room, Pearl only jolts slightly, unable to free herself from the handcuffs, while Amethyst almost backs away off of the bed in a confused tangle. 

“Marty you fucking prick, what the _HELL_ are you doing?!”

“Door wasn't locked. You should really get into the habit. This neighborhood isn't very forgiving about poor security.” 

Pearl, caught between several thought processes, takes a moment to collect herself. A stranger is in the room, her shirt is gone, her bra is threatening to fall apart, she's dreadfully inebriated, and any delightful sexual tension there was is now being replaced with scorn towards the greasy blonde guy standing in the doorway. She knows Marty; and its no surprise that he knows Amethyst, too, given the fact that Greg knew both of them. 

Amethyst is pulling a black t-shirt over herself and quickly putting her jeans back on; leaving Pearl on the bed completely helpless. 

The unwanted male gaze on Pearl only infuriates her more. 

“Yo, fuck off, she's out of your league, buttmunch.” Amethyst grunts, shoving him back out the doorway. 

“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you. Isn't that Rose's little chihuahua? How did you even meet her? I thought she hated fun.”

“Why does it seem like everyone knows everyone. Jeez.” Amethyst Gripes. “And lay off. You broke into my home. It better be for a good reason.”

“I didn't 'break in', the door was practically open.” 

“Open and not locked are not the same. What do you want? I'm busy.”

“I'm here to _collect_.” Marty explains. “But if you don't have the money, I think something else can be _arranged._ ” He adds, eyeing Pearl from the hall. Pearl scoffs and rolls her eyes. 

“As-fucking-if.” Amethyst retorts. “I got your money, just wait out here.” She says with a blatant contempt in her tone. The door closes behind her, leaving Marty outside the bedroom. 

With no explanation, Amethyst is quick to return to Pearl, unlocking the cuffs and setting her free. No sooner, a shirt is tossed her way for her to borrow. Pearl pays no mind to whatever colorful graphics are present; slipping it on without protest. Her attention follows Amethyst as she kneels to the side of the bed, pulling out a lockbox with an embedded code system. 

Pearl is notably confused. Why does Amethyst owe Marty money? And why is it kept in the lockbox instead of a bank account? Knowing Marty, it can't be anything... legal.

The box is opened, and Pearl only catches a glimpse of several stacks of money; they're in 50s and 100s. She retrieves one stack, likely pre-counted for whatever collection Marty is here for. The box is shut and slid back under the bed. From the other side of the door, Marty can be heard, whistling a tuneless discord. 

Despite her questions, Pearl remains quiet, trying to mind her own business to the best of her ability. She was about to have sex with this girl; at least she thinks so. But now its only just hitting her that she REALLY doesn't know anything about Amethyst aside from her being a musician...

Perhaps the interruption, however disappointing, was meant to happen. 

Amethyst retreats to the hallway, leading Marty away from the room to have private conversation; leaving Pearl with more questions than answers.


	12. secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight Drinks is a fanwork intended for mature audiences only. If you are triggered by sex, drug abuse, violence, homosexuality, or pearlmethyst, you should probably hit the back button on your browser.
> 
> Quality checks performed by Badporl. If you find inconsistencies or errors, please message her. I do not edit my own works.
> 
> Title card was made by tumblr user [mayamistaken](http://mayamistaken.tumblr.com/). If you're interested in creating a title card for future or even past chapters, feel free to submit yours to my tumblr; the link for which is on my profile. For extra title cards submitted by other users for this chapter, please see notes at the end.
> 
> \---
> 
> Music for this chapter:
> 
> [There by Froyoma.](https://soundcloud.com/froyoma/there)  
> [Nothing's Gonna' Hurt You Baby by Cigarettes After Sex.](https://soundcloud.com/arsene-lupin-v/nothings-gonna-hurt-you-baby-cigarettes-after-sex)

A familiar chill embraces Pearl's barren legs-- with nothing but Amethyst's baggy shirt giving her cover, she remains seated on the bed while Amethyst has vanished to parts unknown (the living room) with that sleeze-ball christened _Marty_. Any mounting sexual favor she'd been accruing tonight is gone, and all that remains is the effects of her many rewards of vodka.

The case under the bed now monopolizes her thoughts. What's with the money? What does Amethyst owe to Marty? Is Amethyst even going to tell Pearl?

Rather than spend another moment pondering such troubling thoughts, Pearl invites herself back to the familiarity of a bottle marked 'Svedka'.

Perhaps with enough of this, she can get sleepy-drunk and pass out before she has to face Amethyst; who she almost went to bed with... she thinks. It's hard to tell where exactly their game was headed.

Another troubling thought comes to her attention; Marty and Rose are sure to meet again sometime in the near future. Whether it be at another party, a text, or secondhand through Greg... it is highly likely that Pearl's risqué exploits this evening will be exposed-- and that the next time her and Rose see each other will be an unpleasant and uncomfortable argument over Pearl's rapidly-slipping sense of self-control.

The bigger trouble here is that Pearl is completely aware of her poor decisions as of late. She's aware that the sudden return to drinking is a bad sign. She's aware that meeting Amethyst and throwing away her usually level-headed predilections is possibly an indication of an inner turmoil that she can't even begin to identify. Pearl knows that the safe thing to do here would be to tell Amethyst that this is wrong. All of this is so wrong. This isn't who Pearl is. She's just acting out and grasping for excitement as a way to distract herself from more pressing problems.

She would like to believe that it's still the utterly crushing rejecting from Rose a little over a year ago that is causing her this great deal of stress-- but there's something else. Something that she's sure she would have to bring up with her therapist.

...If she were still seeing her therapist, that is. She stopped going to her appointments about four months after her and Rose's terribly awkward confrontation. For some reason, whenever Pearl would go to see her therapist, she would always do her best to avoid talking about her real problems-- because whenever she sat on that couch in that office, all of those soul-crushing issues that brought her to be there seemed so very small and insignificant in retrospect. And no matter how supportive her therapist was, it was just not working. Pearl was reluctant... almost too embarrassed to speak of her worries.

The very thought of that night with Rose is enough to drive Pearl to another helping of vodka. Such an unpleasant evening that was. And an even more unpleasant stretch of months that followed.

The bitter liquid washes over her tongue, giving her enough of a distraction from sheer bad taste to divert her attention. Yes, because addressing the root of her problems right now would be inconvenient. Here she is, in the bedroom of an attractive musician who wants to fuck her, trying to evaluate her life and the string of horrible, impetuous decisions that led her to be here. Honestly.

She looks to the cuffs lying on the bed. She can hardly believe that she agreed to be restrained in such a way, with a yet-stranger in possession of the key. Something her old self surely wouldn't have participated in, not even in her wildest dreams.

 _What am I doing here..._ She sighs, setting the bottle onto the bedside table. She would like to go home, but as it stands, her car is still at the bar where she left it prior to her 'snooping'; and she'd already stated that she would be staying the night. Maybe she can convince Amethyst that she would rather sleep on the couch... as if THAT wouldn't be a red flag in itself about her sudden 'cold feet'.

The conversation out in the living room is dying down-- sounding like they may be putting an end to their 'business transaction'. She looks to the floor; at the several articles of clothing which Pearl so desperately would like to put back on.

The door creaks gently, drawing Pearl's attention.

Surprisingly, it's not Amethyst, but Cunty. Amber eyes fall onto Pearl's, looking on with the usual catty look that pearl can only describe as suspicious or plotting.

Nothing else happens for a while. Cunty just looms amidst the various clothing on the floor, tail flicking from side to side. Pearl is for the most part, indifferent to cats. But now, something inside her yearns for some animalistic affection- some form of comfort, and she pats the spot on the bed next to her in attempt to lure the fluffball closer.

Cunty ignores this; or rather watches with an unchanging facade of apathy, squinting at Pearl and increasing her discomfort. She can't help but get the feeling that Cunty hates her, and views her as some kind of invader.

She sighs, slipping off the bed and reaching for her jeans. A paw gently interrupts her, coming to rest over her hand. It's surprising, to say the least. Pearl looks to Cunty, unsure of how to react. A staring contest ensues.

There's something about a cat willingly placing their paw over your hand that makes you feel blessed; but in this case, something more sinister registered in Pearl. Probably because after several seconds of this, Cunty's claw's slowly eject, gently pressing onto Pearl's skin. Not enough to leave a mark, of course, but enough to give hint to something of a threat. She looks to the feline, and back to the claws that gently rest over her hand.

“...Uh... What are you two doing?”

Pearl looks up to Amethyst, now standing in the doorway, though leaning slightly against the framework. Cunty retracts her paw, turning around and exiting the room with smooth, calculated strides as if the encounter meant nothing. But to Pearl, it meant something more ominous. As if it were a declaration of warfare. Or maybe the alcohol is making Pearl paranoid. A small blush creeps onto her cheeks; something of embarrassment. Here she is, crouched on the floor, half-dressed and caught having a weird moment with the cat owned by an arguable stranger she was about to /maybe/ have sex with.

“Nothing.” Pearl clamors, picking up her jeans and standing straight. Amethyst raises a brow, pursing her lips in obvious suspicion.

“Sorry about that. It seems like all of my friends have shit timing about dropping in.” She explains, recounting the other unfortunate interruption that came from Buck just the other night.

“Obviously.” Pearl retorts with a small, awkward laugh. She clutches the jeans in her hands, holding it against her torso and feeling overexposed.

This is undoubtedly, an uncomfortable situation.

“Are you really going to get dressed? I mean, relax. I walk around in the nude most of the time.” Amethyst admits. She slips her own pants back off as a gesture of affirmation, to which Pearl avoids browsing at all costs. “Besides, we still have to decide on a winner.”

Pearl cringes. Her sex drive is dwindling because of Marty's self-inviting assface. It still irks Pearl that Marty of all people saw her almost naked. She never liked him, and that snake-like grin on his face still clings to her memory.

“I'm going to go ahead and forfeit.” Pearl decides, half smiling to avoid suspicion.

Amethyst seems surprised, but not entirely. “I figured you would.”

Despite wanting to challenge Amethyst's teasing predictions, Pearl doesn't want to incite yet another sexually-tense conversation, so she drops it entirely. Instead, it's time to get some answers. She reclaims her spot on the bed, deciding to leave her pants off for now.

“So... what did Marty want, exactly?”

Amethyst, doesn't seem at all to be caught off guard by the question. She rolls her shoulders a bit. “I just owe him some money, that's all.”

The answer is hardly satisfying, which only encourages Pearl to press further. “..For what, exactly?”

Amethyst can tell exactly what Pearl is summing up from just what she saw, and she can't help but feel a little offended.

“He's just my music manager. Kinda like... PR? He finds places for me to play and he gets a cut of the profits. Nothing 'illegal'.” Amethyst taunts with air-quotes, joining Pearl on the bed.

Pearl isn't convinced. “Wouldn't the profits go to him first, and work its way down to the musicians? If he's the manager then he should be the one at the top of the cash flow.”

Amethyst shrugs yet again. “He mostly does his PR work over the phone; we go to a lot of places, yo. He can't drive to each and every one collecting. He's a busy guy. That and he thinks if we use our _female charm_ , we'll get more money from whatever bar we play at.”

She doubts Amethyst's reaching explanations, but decides that it would be fruitless to question any further; nor would it be beneficial to be so blatantly wary. “Makes sense.” She lies, turning her gaze onto Amethyst's thighs. They're so perfectly shaped in comparison to her own twig legs-- she's admittedly jealous.

“So, what do you wanna do, _Pearl_? Well, I mean, what DON'T you want to do should be the question. Since I won... I guess we should eliminate certain _prizes_.”

“Well I'm obviously not going to do... _that._ ” She states frankly, glancing to the side.

“ _That?_ Whatever do you mean? I have absolutely no idea what _that_ is implying.” She retorts with a grin that Pearl finds to be infuriatingly adorable.

“Oh please. I'm not going to feed into your 'playing dumb' routine.”

Amethyst is fairly persistent, tacking on an abhorrent fake southern-accent as if to sound like an innocent redneck juvenile with no concept of coitus. “But Pearl, I really have nary a clue as to whateva' y'all could mean. Please explain to me what you mean when you say 'that'.”

The display is rewarded swiftly with a pillow to Amethyst's face. The shorter girl cackles, snorting slightly.

“Mmm, feisty. I like that.” She growls, mimicking the motion of a cats paw from behind the pillow.

At this, Pearl is slightly taken by surprise. Amethyst is being rather playful-- as opposed to Pearl's expectations of disappointment by Marty's interruption. She's not as shaken by it as Pearl is.

Pearl sighs, returning to the thought of how she'll be explaining this to Rose tomorrow in class. She shouldn't HAVE to explain it, and yet she'll be pressed. Her phone is in her car, so there's no way to beat Marty to the punch.

“What's with the sighing?” Prods Amethyst. “Did you want him to stay for a threesome?”

Pearl directs a glare to the other. “Must you be so crass? I'm just worried of what Marty will tell Rose. They DO know each other. And Marty doesn't seem like the type to respect anyone's privacy...”

“Man why do you even care what Rose thinks? She's not your mom. You're in college. You have a job. You're a massive nerd. Who you sleep with is none of her beeswax.”

“Except we didn't...sleep together.”

“Aw, do you still wanna'? I'll go get the strap-on.”

Pearl's first question is why Amethyst owns a strap-on in the first place. Or if she really does, or if she's joking. Regardless, she's not entertained by this. Amethyst notices.

“Why does it matter what she thinks?”

Pearl has to consider. It's not exactly something you can explain in a precise way. It's... a number of things. Their past, their dynamic, knowing about Rose's overbearing concerns. What mistakes Pearl has made that lead Rose into being so involved. She can see Amethyst waiting for an answer, however, so she does her best to describe it in the vaguest way possible.

“Well... I mean... she knows me. She knows how I operate under stress. And she's my only real friend. She genuinely cares about me.”

“There's a difference between caring and obsessing.” Amethyst grumbles, sprawling out on the bed and eyeing her phone.

“Mm...” She knows Amethyst is right; it really isn't Rose's business who Pearl spends time with. Maybe she needs some separation...

“I can't believe it, though. Like... how everyone we know knows each other, but you and I only met just now. Fucking freaky.” She snickers. Some... strangely cute music plays softly from her phone. Something Pearl immediately recognizes. It's that weird phone game with the cats that everyone in class plays before the professor arrives. Neko-something. She can hardly believe that Amethyst is the type to indulge in a game like that.

“Yes, it is strange.” Pearl agrees.

“And what's weirder is that Greg and Rose are a thing. Like... euuuhhh...”

“What do you mean they're 'a thing?'” Pearl counters. “You mean like... together?”

“Yeap. What, you didn't know?”

In fact, Pearl didn't know. “That's... news to me. As far as I could tell, they were in the 'courtship' stage.”

“Oh. Oops. Yeah, I heard it from G and Greg. And forreal, Pearl? 'Courtship'? What the hell are you?”

Pearl sours at the thought. Rose and Greg are in a relationship; and Rose never even bothered to tell Pearl about this? And yet this whole week Rose has been prying, mediating and doting on Pearl's harmless visits on and off the campus? Driving away Pearl's first real intimate pursuit? She feels salty. Very much so. Rose doesn't necessarily treat Pearl as an equal; Amethyst is right, she takes their friendship into mothering territory and maybe it's time to have a talk...

“Yo, you okay?” Comes Amethyst, having noticed Pearl's lack of response.

“I can't believe she has the nerve to start dating someone without telling me, and then immediately start coaching me when I develop an interest in someone. The nerve of her...”

“It's not THAT big of a deal, is it? I mean. It's not really your business.”

“That's true, but she treats my relationships like they're HER business. How hypocritical!”

At this, Amethyst raises a brow, finding Pearl's reacting to be less out of concern for equality and more of something else.

“Do you have feelings for her?” Amethyst drawls bluntly. This question earns a strangled noise of surprise from Pearl.

“I... of course not. I'm just cross about her skewed double standards.”

“Really?” Amethyst questions, unconvinced. “You see pretty riled for someone who's only concerned about 'double standards' and 'fairness'.”

“That's all it is! Honestly..” She argues, sounding even less sure of herself.

“While we're on the subject...” Amethyst extends. “What WAS it that happened last year?” Sure, she seems nonchalant in her inquiry, but Pearl can tell that Amethyst is boiling with curiosity.

A certain discomfort is evident now, but if Pearl keeps beating around the bush Amethyst will only become more discontent with not knowing. She sighs, hating the idea of even revisiting that terrible, embarrassing, messy and emotional time in her life. Her fingertips press into the fabric of her jeans; still being held in her lap rather than actually being worn. Alcohol has a tendency to make her so drowsy when the initial high is over. Would Amethyst take a rain-check on an explanation based on how tired Pearl is?

Probably not.

“It was a year ago; does it really matter?” She tries. “It wasn't even that big of a deal...”

“It obviously IS a big deal if you're trying so hard to play me off.” She grins, twirling a lock of her hair. “Did you guys have friend sex?”

Pearl rolls her eyes. “Must you take it to the extreme? Nothing happened. I mean it.”

“So something ALMOST happened.” Amethyst touts, displaying an unnecessary level of confidence that definitely rubs Pearl the wrong way.

“I... okay okay. I'll tell you. But please don't tease me.”

“Do I seem like the type to tease?” She jests, furthering Pearl's reluctance to divulge anything.

“I haven't told anyone this. It's embarrassing...”

“If you're worried about who I'm going to tell; I can promise you strict confidence. I'll only talk to Cunty about it. Pinky-swear.”

Resisting the urge to do the usual eye-roll, Pearl relents with a sough, wondering where it would be most appropriate to begin. Probably from the moment when she first started having feelings for Rose; who at the time, was her very best friend.

“How detailed do I have to be?”

“If I start falling asleep then maybe start condensing.” Amethyst laughs, setting down her phone and giving Pearl her attention.

“Hrrmmm...” She wonders if Amethyst is even taking this seriously, but decides to continue. “Rose and I grew up together. We were close from the moment we met. So it was no surprise when we decided to go to the same college together. She graduated high school two years before me, but she waited for me to graduate so we would finish college at the same time.” She explains; a certain fondness carrying in her voice. “We were inseparable. She was my best, and only friend. So I suppose the fact that I eventually developed feelings for her was inevitable. But I know she was uh... well I mean, I gathered from being around her all the time that she had no interest in women. And yet I still... couldn't help myself. For a while I tried to stave off my feelings, because I didn't think I could bare to confess and risk losing the only person who really understood me.”

Pearl pauses, checking to see if Amethyst was still awake. It was just a fraction of a second, and yet when their eyes met for a moment, she could feel herself getting heated. She doesn't look bored; but focused. Has she been listening to Pearl, or merely pretending to and watching her with crude thoughts lurking in her absent consideration?

“...I started drinking much more. Our first year of college was me avoiding Rose in any situation where we might be alone, because I was afraid of what I would try. What I would say to her. The longer you try to deny yourself someone, the less self control you will have around that someone-- at least that's what it was like for me.”

“...Shit that's deep.” Amethyst mumbles, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hands. Pearl thought for a moment that she might be being sarcastic, but the look in her eyes says otherwise.

“...But then the Valentine's Day dance came. Rose wanted me to go, because it was going to be her first time planning a dance as a member of the campus committee. She was just starting to notice Gregory at the time; not full-on, but I could tell they were sharing a... mutual interest of sorts. I didn't want to see them flirting, especially at a dance, so I tried faking sick. Which worked, of course. I stayed in my dorm room-- drinking, of course.

“I think it was a bit past midnight when Rose found me. She was disappointed that I was drinking, but she wasn't an RA at the time so it's not like she could do anything. Suffice to say, I was drunk by then, and I was hardly aware that Rose was in my room until she was right next to me. She... first started to reprimand me for drinking and lying about being sick-- told me I had been acting really weird and immature lately. And then I think I made a comment about Gregory, I can't recall.

“Aaaaand... uh... then I guess she tried asking me what I problem was, to which I responded with something, again, about Gregory. And she got really angry with me... and then I told her I was in love with her, and that I was offended that she didn't notice; which looking back on it now, was wrong of me. How could she have known that her best friend liked her in that way...”

Amethyst seems engrossed; if not a little sad-- it's hard to tell in the piss-poor illumination of Christmas lights. When Pearl is supposed to say what happens next, she struggles. It's not really easy to tell anyone that you've ever been rejected-- as if pride may have something to do with it. That, and Pearl hates the idea of being pitied or being mistaken for ever wanting pity.

“...I tried to kiss her. She pushed me off. She left my room. We didn't speak for about a month, I think. I finally apologized... and ever since then, we've been really... awkward with each other.”

“Shit, man.” Is Amethyst's initial consolation. Pearl isn't at all surprised by her choice of reaction.

“Mm.”

“But why does she mother you? That doesn't explain anything. Did she do that kind of shit before the whole... almost-kiss thing?”

“Not really. We were pretty normal.” She admits, sighing. Having to explain all of that has certainly done well to diminish whatever was left of her good mood.

“...Do you still like her?” Ah yes, the dreaded question that Pearl was hoping would never come. She herself, is unsure of the answer, but the fact that she can't say no is probably a strong indication that she, in fact, still does like Rose. But maybe Amethyst can be enough to steer her away from Rose for good-- not that she would use Amethyst, or anyone strictly for the purpose of forgetting Rose.

“I suppose there is something left over. But it's nothing that should affect how we... interact. I... I like you, Amethyst.”

“Oh...” Amethyst blushes considerably, probably because no one has ever explicitly said they liked her. Then again, she doesn't necessarily recall ever being in bed with someone and not having sex, so there's a first time for everything.

“And now... it's your turn. I answered your question, now you have to answer a question of mine.”

“If this is about the money, Pearl, I already told you.” She sighs, irritated.

“I just want to be sure that you're not... I mean I don't want you to get caught up in anything dangerous... I know we've only known each other for like a week, but...”

“You're freaking out over nothing.” Amethyst plays, rolling onto her side and checking her phone again. “By the way, I need your number, still.”

“Oh... right, yes. You just need the last digit, correct?”

“Nnnyeehhh... welllllll... I deleted the numbers I already had when I was still pissed about... y'know.”

“I see.” Pearl grimaces, having almost forgotten about the turbulent upsets that occurred within the span of a few days. And so, she reads off her entire number, no strings or games attached this time.

“Cool. Now I need a hot pic of you for your contact image.” She explains. She doesn't give Pearl any time to protest, pulling the jeans out of Pearl's hands and tossing them to the side. Her phone is raised, and the sound of a shutter is all Pearl can grasp by the time its over. “Nice...”

“H-hey!” She argues, covering her bare legs with a pillow-- as if Amethyst weren't about to ravage them 30 minutes ago, anyways.

“Oh relaaaaaax, no one is gonna see it besides me.” She grins. “You look hot, btw.”

Pearl flushes considerably. “I don't have my phone with me so I can't take your photo..” She admits, clearly disheartened by the fact.

“Wow that sucks.” Amethyst taunts. “That's probably for the best, though. I'm not very photogenic.”

“That's evident. I saw your mugshot in the dorm lobby... You looked half-asleep.”

“Really? The runt behind the desk said I looked stoned.” Amethyst explains with a small laugh, somewhat amused.

“There are also rumors already about me having sex with you. It's kind of embarrassing that they talk about it, but it makes it worse when they have a photo of you to go off of.”

“Why is it embarrassing? Now those white boys can't call you a prude.”

Pearl makes a grunting noise, akin to a moose. “That's not the point. I just don't like being a topic of... dorm gossip. I prefer to be left out of those kinds of things.” She explains-- then a thought hits her. “Let me see your phone.”

“Jeez, Pearl, ain't even say please.”

Another moose noise, accompanied by a reluctant 'please'.

“Ah-ah-ah, no. What are you gonna use it for?” Amethyst asks, making sure to keep it out of Pearl's reach.

“Do I really seem like the type to use someone else's phone for anything bad or damning? Don't you trust me?” She tries, putting on her best innocent face.

“Hmm.. do I trust you? I've only known you for a few days. That's a pur-etty bold question.”

“Have I given you reason NOT to trust me?”

Amethyst seems to ponder on this; as if it really requires any kind of contemplation. "Welllll, why can't you just tell me what you're gonna do? You're actin' suspicious, _babe_.”

“Hrrrmmm... I could take a picture of you with your phone and send it to mine.” Pearl admits. Amethyst immediately rejects this.

“Haha, I don't think so, honey.” Amethyst chaffs, moving up next to Pearl on the bed but placing her phone on the bedside table.

“Don't you find it at least a LITTLE bit weird that you're willing to have sex with me but won't even give me a picture of you?”

“Eh. Yeah I guess. But still. No.”

“Very well then. You better be on guard next time we see each other, then.” Pearl advises, relaxing against the headboard to seem less irked by this than she really is.

“Is that a threat, hm?”

“I wouldn't call it that, per say...” Pearl concedes, glancing to the side to see Amethyst looking right back at her. “More like a... pledge.”

“You pledge to take my photo when I'm not looking? What a strange way to put it.”

“I guess if I can't get a decent photo of you on my own, I can always go to your bar crowds and find a fan girl. You're bound to have a few of those.”

“Oh trust me, I DO.”

Pearl becomes acrid at this; is Amethyst bragging? Or is she trying to get Pearl jealous? A torrent of questions bombards her consciousness. Does she sleep with anyone who comes up to her claiming to like her music? Is Amethyst 'loose'? Does she have tons of one-night-stands? Drunk girls striving to get close to a bar musician-- it's highly likely. And Amethyst seems like the adventurous type who would welcome any such person-- given they were attractive enough. Pearl clears her throat wondering if it's her place to ask questions so soon.

“You do... what?” She tries carefully; masking her insecurity only partially.

Amethyst knows what's going on at this question, but for some reason can't resist feeding off of it. “I have fangirls.” She says frankly.

“...And...?”

“And what?”

“I mean uh...” Pearl fumbles a little. She has no idea where she wants this conversation to go, or what answers shes hoping to gain. Maybe a little... confirmation that Amethyst won't be having one-night-stands while she's... seeing Pearl would be nice. “What does that... mean, exactly?”

“It means that they have good taste in music, I guess.”

“No... I mean... do you... nnnn, take them home... with you?” She tries, already regretting her choice of words.

Amethyst can tell by the tone in Pearl's voice that this question is leading to an even bigger question. And honestly it wasn't something she has even given thought to until now. “Well, I mean yeah, in the past I have. But not like... not like since I've been talking to you.” She confesses, albeit awkwardly.

Despite knowing that Amethyst has in fact been sleeping with lots of girls, it is somewhat of a relief that she hasn't done it in the span of the five days they've known each other. Five days used to be nothing, but now, to Pearl, it feels as if it's been months.

“Okay. Right.” Pearl offers, unsure of what exactly she means by that. “That's.. that's good I guess. Uhm...”

“You make a lot of funny faces.” Points Amethyst, gently tracing her fingertip over Pearl's cheek. The taller girl can't help but lean into the touch. But a question still burns.

“Are we... I mean...”

“I won't sleep with anyone while I'm uh... yep. If you're interested, I mean. I won't like... y'know.”

“Okay.” That's really all Pearl needed to know for now; and bonus points to Amethyst for being able to fill in the blanks.

“But what does that mean? Like... does that mean we're dating? Seeing each other? Being... _exclusive?_ ”

“I suppose the best way to put it for now would to be... seeing each other or exclusive, yes. You haven't taken me out on a date. I think that's what 'dating' is.”

“Oh right. Shit. Dating...” Amethyst echoes. “Uh... what kind of... I mean what do you wanna do. Or well... what do you consider a date?”

Come to think of it, the thought of actually having a normal date never crossed Pearl's mind. Even when she was cleaning up Amethyst earlier, and dating was mentioned, she didn't really take time to consider it. She hums with contemplation. She can't imagine Amethyst ever doing one of those movie-esque type dates where they each wear their best formals and have a candle-lit dinner on a boat, coasting down the Danube river.

But Pearl can at least dream.

A realistic date would be the whole 'dinner and a movie thing, but Pearl doesn't much care for the movie theater, and nothing has really come out recently that would cater to her tastes. And certainly nothing she could force herself to sit through. Then again, by today's standards, a movie date usually means they'll just make out a lot and disturb the other movie goers. Not necessarily romantic by any stretch of Pearl's imagination.

“I uh... well... I just like spending time... together.”

“So technically we're on a date right now.” Pangs Amethyst dryly.

“Well, no... I guess I would like to be somewhere with... nice scenery. A clear view of the stars. Somewhere with no.. light pollution.”

“Stargazing is a date to you?” She questions, not really hinting towards disappointment, but not exactly sounding enthused, either. “Wow, so you're like those girls in country songs who totally dig having sex in the back of some cowboy's pickup in the middle of a cornfield.”

“You now, dates don't mean there's going to be any _sex_ involved. Sex comes after... getting to know each oth--”

“I was joking.” Amethyst cuts in, smiling. “But yeah, I guess I see what you're aiming for. I'll think of something.”

Despite the charming thought of Amethyst 'thinking of something' for their date, Pearl can't help but feel slightly nervous. When someone says 'date', the typical thought is of romance, and having a good time. But what if they have nothing to talk about? Most of their interactions have been... of an inebriated circumstance. Can they actually carry a sober conversation? What if they end up hating each other or getting on each other's nerves? Pearl, under the thought of an unsuccessful date, is unaware that she is now biting her fingertip.

“Don't look so scared. I'm not going to take you out to the woods and axe murder you or anything.”

“How assuring of you to say so.” Pearl retorts. “So uhm... when did you want to... arrange this engagement?”

“You also have a funny way of saying things.” Amethyst teases. “Hmm... I work all days of the week from eight to four. So basically all of my nights are open. Garnet can just get Greg or Vidalia to fill in. The real question here is will your campus mommy let you go out on a date with a _ruffian_ such as myself?”

Pearl murmurs under her breath something incoherent. “That's not a concern. Uhm... I believe I work every night for the next three days. So Thursday night... would work best for me. I think.”

“Do I have to wear anything?”

For a moment, Pearl has to actually process this question. “I... I would prefer you to wear some clothing, yes.”

“Oh my god. No. I mean... are you expecting me to wear something... like... not normal.”

“I... I mean you don't have to dress up per say, but I'd prefer it if you didn't show up fresh out of a cage match with holes in your clothes and some hair missing..?'

“Oh okay so basically I can show up in a Grimace costume and you'd be 100% A-Okay with that. Noted.”

“Please... please no.” Pearl begs calmly, bringing herself off of the headboard and stretching

“What's that? Now you're saying there ARE restrictions?”

“WELL I MEAN... obviously I don't want you to show up in something that would embarrass me! I'm not going to get in a truck where Grimace is the driver!”

“So you'd be okay with another cast member of the McDonalds crew. Okay. I'll be the Hamburglar.”

Pearl gently facepalms. “Have you maybe considered... oh... I don't know, a nice polo and some slacks?”

“Do I fucking look like I'm 80? No. I'm not going to take you out on a date dressed like I'm ready for some boring white-people golf.”

Pearl uses the pillow in her lap to smack Amethyst, with every intention of being gentle, but actually being more aggressive. “Then just wear what you usually do!”

Amethyst arrests the pillow away from Pearl and sends it to the floor, mostly to prevent another assault. But while she's not being a lethargic pile of lazy, she tugs Pearl's arm, bringing her in for a kiss, much to the taller girl's surprise. But it's definitely well-reciprocated, and soon enough, Pearl is eager to shimmy herself into Amethyst's lap, completely disregarding their lack of pants.

The kiss is sobering, but in a pleasant way; as opposed to the sobering that Marty provided. And as always, Amethyst's lips are full and warm.

“Does this mean you want me to go get the strap-on?”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title card submission by [cosmos-art](http://the-groundskeeper.tumblr.com/post/139328620807/heres-a-header-if-youd-like-to-use-it).  
> Title card submission by [hooloovoo-moon](http://the-groundskeeper.tumblr.com/post/139328623207/i-drew-up-a-quick-sketch-i-saw-your-post-like).


	13. routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight Drinks is a fanwork intended for mature audiences only. If you are triggered by sex, drug abuse, violence, homosexuality, or pearlmethyst, you should probably hit the back button on your browser.
> 
> Quality checks performed by Badporl. If you find inconsistencies or errors, please message her. I do not edit my own works.

“Call me paranoid, but I don't like it.”

“It's only been a few days. She'll settle down when the excitement wears off. She can't be that great if you describe her as a 'stale cracker'.” 

“Yeah but she's getting more... stubborn... about taking product.” Complains Marty. “I can hardly get a hold of her anymore and she ignores my calls, my texts.” Marty groans, kicking his worn out, tacky cowboy boots up on an equally tacky coffee table depicting a woman on all fours, supporting a glass top. “The only way I can get a reaction is if I show up. And I hate going to that part of town.”

“Hey, careful with that.” The man snaps quickly. Marty withdraws his limbs just as fast. “Glass is fragile, didn't you know?”

“What's the point of a footrest if you run the risk of shattering it?” Marty scoffs, looking to the object with ignorant disdain, knowing full and well that it is in fact a coffee table; but to him, coffee tables and footstools go hand-in-hand. 

“Anyways, I wouldn't worry too much, Marty. This money is too good to turn her nose up at for too long. Do you honestly think she can afford that apartment and everything with it on just a Brewer's salary?”

Marty piques a bit. “What if she's dealing for someone else?”

“She's not.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Oh Marty, haven't you learned by now that there is a code of ethics to all this?”

“I never once related the word 'ethics' to drug dealing, so no, I guess I haven't learned.” He admits in a tense smirk. 

“Well there is. There isn't a dealer bold enough to mess around in my territory or try to poach my dealers. Because anyone with half a brain knows I don't fuck around.” Claims Giuseppe smoothly. To the side of his chair, he retrieves a smoking pipe, lighting it accordingly. The smell permeates within seconds. 

Marty scoffs, finding the bold claim to be rather arrogant. Giuseppe has only been dealing in this area for a little less than a year now and he's already getting hotheaded. “What? You piss on one druggie and that makes them yours? Don't you know that another dog can just come along and piss where you did? That doesn't sound like ethics to me, that just sounds like marking your territory. Seems like a weak system to me.”

“I suppose it is weak when you put it that way, however things are much more complex than that. If another dog, as you call it, tries taking what isn't theirs, I won't let it slide. And they know it.” 

It takes all of Marty's patience not to challenge this averment. Giuseppe is good at getting supply, good at distributing and great at keeping a low profile, but his attitude is something he can't quite get over. They hardly can make assertion of a 'friendship' status, more like business associates... simply because Marty is used to being in charge of things. Somehow when Giuseppe showed up, Marty slowly began to find his dealings being overrun and micromanaged by this chesty newcomer. And there's something beneath that cocky attitude that intimidates Marty enough to keep him from challenging his authority.

Giuseppe exhales, producing a thick cloud of smoke, seemingly on purpose in the direction of Marty-- he coughs only slightly at this.

“Right. Well, in the meantime, since Amy is smitten, you can expect a drop in _revenue_.” He explains. The scent of the pipe smoke tempts him to light a cigarette. “Being in a band and traveling all over made her one of my top dealers.”

“What about that other one. The ebony with the nice hips? Isn't she in the same band?”

“Man I've tried with her on more than one occasion. She just stares me down until I leave. Never says a word. It's actually pretty creepy.”

“Damn shame.” Giuseppe admits, tapping the stem of his pipe to his chin in thought. “I can't really afford a decrease in profit right now. I just leased a BMW not four days ago. The payments are nothing short of a luxury.”

Though Marty finds this his problem not, he knows that Giuseppe can, and will make it his problem. It's those subtle threats that keep Marty on edge around this creep. “I've tried everything with Amy.” He explains. “The only way she'd start selling again is if we got rid of that stick chick.”

“Oh is that all? I can have her taken care of.” Giuseppe puffs, now blowing his smoke elsewhere.

Marty can never tell exactly what Giuseppe has in mind. He's unpredictable, and not in the good way. “...I don't mean that we should off her.” Refutes Marty. “But we should at least try convincing her to keep away.”

“I would never off a woman... well, not unless she cheated on me or something.” Comes Giuseppe. He slackens a bit into his leather chair-- which must be new, now that Marty thinks about it. He doesn't remember seeing it here last week. “No... I have a better idea. We're going about this all wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Angles Marty, not sure what the other is playing at. He's frowning a bit more now, making the lines around his mouth even more prominent. If there's something Marty is good at, it's looking disenchanted or confused.

“Proselytism.” Says Giuseppe simply. This only gains further confusion from Marty.

“...What?”

“Proselytism.”

“Repeating the word doesn't do shit. Can you elaborate?” Tries Marty. He hates it when Giuseppe behaves so cryptically. He especially hates his penchant for being a dramatist in the most mundane things. Like this conversation, for example.

“I think we should send some gifts to that girl. Rather than scare her off, how about he invite her to join? That way, Amy can keep her job, and her boring girlfriend.” Giuseppe is clearly convinced that his idea is a good one, while Marty can hardly keep himself from objecting. He knows for a fact that Pearl would never accept whatever 'gift' Giuseppe is implying.

Marty can hardly believe such a wild and fruitless suggestion. It's downright crazy. “Isn't that... I mean, you'd WASTE good product and risk getting caught by the Postal Service just to extended a friendly 'offering' to a girl who's probably never even inhaled cigarette smoke? You haven't seen this girl, Giuseppe, she's too... above it all to even glance in our direction, let alone give your product a 'taste'.”

“Whatever happened to that 'Don't judge a book by its cover' shtick?” Comes Giuseppe, now idly chewing on his pipe. “It's a modern world full of modern women. Women do drugs, too.”

“Not this one. You can bet on it.” Marty denies flatly.

This denial earns him 'the look' from Giuseppe. The look that tells Marty that despite how light a conversation this may appear to be, Giuseppe is implying something more serious with his suggestion. It is more than that, and it's not an inquiry, either. It's a 'do it' command. The kind that Marty learned from in the past. And he learned the hard way.

“Got it.” He manages without conveying how irritated he is with the errand. Such a waste.

“I knew you would!” Giuseppe smiles sweetly, expressing himself an carrying on as if this conversation were about something mundane like dinner reservations. Just then, a knock at the door, consisting of 6 taps in intervals of two with a two-second rest in between draws both of their attention. 

Marty looks between the door and Giuseppe, wondering if this person is expected, and going by the look of calm on Giuseppe's face, they are very expected. But Giuseppe does nothing, returning to his pipe with a certain content. 

And so the door opens.

Two very large men, looking stereotypically suspicious enter, immediately taking notice of Marty; he sticks out like a sore thumb being the only blonde in the room. All these men are well-colored, dark haired and sporting a certain degree of five o'clock shadow. Italians. Giuseppe hides his accent pretty well, but these men have thick ones. 

Eventually, once formalities have been exchanged, it's almost as if Marty doesn't exist anymore. They carry on into full-blown foreign language; getting rowdy and pouring drinks; producing cigars. A bizarre scene it is; especially when it falls in line with those cookie-cutter mafia scenes you see in many of those bad mob films from the 80's. Marty has to snap his attention back to reality, finding this to be the perfect moment to make his leave.

… … … 

Unlike in her dorm room, Pearl is not forced awake by the piercing luminescence of sunrise. She isn't forced to retreat beneath the covers in desperate attempt to soak in a few more minutes of sleep before the inevitable beckon of her alarm. No, this morning is different. Amethyst's curtains do well to blind her to the time of day; and so when she finally stirs from a heavy slumber, it is only from the painful awareness of a full bladder. Their little game last night was fun, but the oncoming headache and stiff limbs can attest to its recklessness.

After a few moments of acclimation, she comes to realize that Amethyst is nowhere to be seen; not that she can see much anyways, but it's evident that Pearl is the only occupant in the bed. And the spot where Amethyst slept lacks a certain warmth, indicating that Amethyst has been gone for some time. 

…

Upon exiting the bathroom, freshened with a cool splash of water to the face, the strong scent of coffee lures her in to the living room. Her eyes roam to the sofa, where all she can make of Amethyst are her bare feet draped over the armrest; the faint music of Neko Atsume plays on. Cunty, however, perches on the back of the couch, observing Pearl with one eye open, looking as appraising as ever. 

She cautiously approached the side of the couch, staring down at a rather-exhausted Amethyst, who seems only slightly interested in the game on her phone. She glances up momentarily to Pearl, offering a tired grin. “Afternoon.” She says.

Pearl shutters at the word-- she hates waking up at any time passed 10. “Afternoon...? What time is it?” 

“Time for you to get a--”

“Stop.” Pearl interjects, refusing Amethyst the satisfaction of such overused humor.

“12:47.” She answers. “You gotta' be somewhere?”

“Not necessarily. I do have Astrophysics homework I need to finish...” She says with only slight disdain. “And what of you? Have you a bar to be entertaining tonight?”

“Did... but I wanna take it easy today. That Jasper is like punching a brick wall.” Amethyst groans, flexing her fingers and observing clear-formed bruises. Pearl only hums in response. 

“Does that Mean Gregory would fill in for you?”

“Him or Vidalia.” Responds Amethyst. “You college kids sure have a habit of procrastinating.”

Pearl doesn't make a connection in this. “What do you mean?”

“Well Greg doesn't usually play Sundays anyways because that's his 'homework' day, too.” She closes her eyes, looking fairly exhausted. “What would I have to do to get you to pour my coffee?”

“Say please and thank you, for starters.” Pearl smiles, turning towards the kitchen.

“For starters?” She echoes. 

“Well I guess driving me back to my car at some point today would be helpful.” She scans the counter tops, littered with empty beer bottles and caps. This apartment has no dishwasher; told by the drying rack settled next to the sink. She must not cook for herself much, shown by the severe lack of silverware or dishes. It crosses her mind to wonder how Amethyst can afford to live on her own in this economy; especially on one income. Unless playing in a band is really that profitable...

“Aww... do you have to go?” Amethyst groans. 

Pearl has to relent her fruitless search, rinsing out the 'FUCK' mug and filling it with hot coffee. “Well, my homework is in my bag which is in my car; but I'd hate to have you drive me to and from and back again...” She murmurs, doubting that Amethyst's truck gets that good of mileage. “That and I need to see for myself if... if rumors have made their way back to campus.”

“You mean to see if Marty mouthed off to Rose.”

Pearl's silence confirms this as she hands off the mug of unsweetened brew to her host. 

“He's not like that. He doesn't get involved in 'personal affairs'. He does what gets him money and I don't think telling your mom-friend about your misbehaving would turn him any kind of profit.” She cackles modestly, sipping her coffee pensively. 

“I don't know about that... rumors and blackmail fetch a pretty high price.”

“What kind of crack-job high-drama TV shows do you watch? No one pays money for trash talk. And if they did, it wouldn't be enough. Not for him.”

Pearl's interest is piqued. “...What business DOES he partake in? If he's so fond of money he surely wouldn't settle for anything that sports a minimum wage.” Her curiosity of course stems not from any interest in Marty himself, but from her interest in his relationship with Rose, with Greg and with Amethyst. Amethyst seems to know one side of Marty-- something a bit more seedy. While Rose only sees him as a laid-back sort of man who throws parties all the time and gets along with Greg.

Amethyst seems to see right through this alternative question. “As I said, he's my manager. I think he manages tons of other local bands.”

Pearl squints, unsatisfied with this explanation, but drops it anyways. To press for answers would only breed something negative.

“As much as I would love to stay here and be... indecent with you and laze around, I've been getting pretty lax with my studies as is. I really need to get back on track...”

At this, Amethyst huffs, blowing some stray hairs out of her face. “Will I get to see you again?”

Resisting a pleased grin, Pearl seats herself on the arm of the sofa. “Now what kind of question is that? We've got date plans, don't we?”

Amethyst lights up considerably. “Right on. But I have absolutely no clue what to do about it.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Well like. I don't...? I don't know what you're into?”

Pearl squints down at the other, realizing that she is in fact, right. By all standards, they've been doing this whole relationship ass-backwards. Dates first, risqué sleepovers and alcoholism later. But now, the day after a hot game of truth or dare, they're just now deciding on a real date. 

“This is weird.” Pearl announces. 

Amethyst concurs with a hum. Silence ensues.

… … 

“She's been getting harder and harder to get a hold of.” Rose sighs, staring at her phone screen with a listless worry. Her roommate, the other RA, is gone for the weekend. Greg is relaxed next to her, on the couch, plucking away at his guitar. “I wonder if I drove her away somehow.”

Greg only makes a sound to show his attention, knowing full and well where Pearl is and that he encouraged her to be there. 

“Am I... am I too motherly?” She asks, dropping her phone onto the cushion beside her. 

He draws a blank. No one ever wants to point out the negative traits of the people they like. Especially to their face. He finds it troubling how much easier it is to lie than to be truthful. But however hard it may be to speak with veracity, he does so with caution.

“I think your heart is in the right place.” He begins, thinking carefully. “But Pearl seems like she's just now opening herself up to new things. I think she's at a point of self-discovery, and kinda has that attitude that most 16 year old's do?” His words are aimless, mostly because he knows hardly anything about Pearl and only what Rose has told him in their several conversations about her. But it would be worse not to try consoling Rose, even if his opinion holds no levity. 

“Maybe she never had the chance to fool around like that growing up, so she's doing it now where her parents can't see. And maybe you see it happening, too, and are trying to steer her back on track. I mean... this is college. You have to have SOME semblance of maturity to get through it. And I guess it can be tough to watch her make... reckless decisions.”

“Exactly.” Rose agrees.

“Wait, really?” Pops Greg, hardly believing that what he formulated was at all on-point. It comes as a surprise to himself, but Rose has always known Greg to be something called 'obliviously-observant'. 

Rose cracks a grin, finding him to be as amusing as always. “Really. You're not all that wrong about it. But I guess it means I do need to give Pearl space... if you've noticed something 'motherly' about my behavior then I suppose it is indeed a problem.”

“I don't think it's a problem to be concerned for someone you love.” He sighs, strumming his guitar a bit more, as if the conversation were fodder for new song material. “But if you don't let people make mistakes they'll never learn.”

“What is she like?” Rose asks. Greg takes a moment to consider that she speaks of Amethyst.

“She's wild, I'll give her that. A little... well... a lot like... oh I don't know. I just play in her band sometimes.” He relents, smiling as he loses traction in his endeavor to comfort her or offer anything worth-while. Rose seems dejected, She must truly care for Pearl to be so remorseful. “But I mean, I know she at least wouldn't do anything bad to Pearl. She's not shady or nothin'.” 

This does little good to put Rose at ease. 

“I was so mean to her. To Amethyst. I should apologize.”

“Isn't she banned from the campus for another few days?” Piques Greg, setting his instrument aside and helping himself to the bowl of M&M's on the coffee table. Candy is something that Rose's dorm room is always abundant in-- likely because she has to have a lot of the other students in and out and wants to seem more approachable. 

“I'm sure Pearl is upset about that, still.”

“Well I mean, she DID violate campus rules. You were just doing your job.” Greg explains, remaining as neutral as possible. “But hey, she'll be unbanned in time for the Spring Break dance. Why not invite her? Or I can convince her to come play in the band? Then you can properly make up.”

Rose seems to roll the idea around for a bit. She dislikes being patient, and would much rather get the apology done now, but its not as if she has the luxury of leaving the campus for any amount of time to go seek her. “I suppose that's my best option. In the mean time I should try to patch things up with Pearl. Don't you agree?”

“Hey don't ask me. I don't really know her all that well. Would she be receptive to being talked to right now?”

“Probably not. She's more of the silent, letting things wash over type. Especially when it concerns admitting she was wrong-- even if it was just a little. We were both wrong. I should give her space...”

“Does that mean I get more time with you?” asks Greg, individually seeking out the green M&M's, because apparently they taste better. The question is enough to break Rose's sullen expression.

“I suppose it does.” She smiles. “Do you have plans today Mr. Universe?”

“You know I don't.” He smiles. Rose is delighted, but knows he is indeed lying.

“So that means you finished your Art History essay? All five pages? I'm amazed at your work ethic.” She gleams playfully, watching Greg's charming grin crumble into a look of guilt. 

“More like two pages. But there's not much else I can write about! The question is too simple. Identifying 10 characteristics unique to Rembrandt and explaining what kind of emotion they present in each painting and stretching it across five pages is a lot of BS'ing. Not to mention that you can't take a characteristic of his paintings and apply the same meaning to each one. Though... to be honest, all of his stuff seems really depressing.”

“Well I don't know much about art, but you're more than welcome to camp out here and work on it. I have some Chemistry and Astrophysics homework to do, myself.”

“Good. Yes. Doing homework together. Romantic way to spend our Sunday.” 

“I'll order a pizza. Doesn't that make it a date?” Tries Rose, reaching over the side of the couch and retrieving her backpack. 

Greg huffs, relenting with not too much disappointment. “It certainly does.”

After her textbook is spread open and her question sheet presented next to it, Greg follows suit, digging into his own, unruly, patched up duffel bag and procuring his laptop, which houses his unfinished essay. They seem to work in silence for all of five minutes before Greg solicits his first of many distracting thoughts.

“Hey can I ask you something?”

Ruse looks up from her book only for a second, to indicate her attention before returning her gaze to the textbook. Greg taps his finger pensively on the keyboard, hammering the '.' key repeatedly. 

“Why does Pearl call me 'Gregory'?”

… …

“Well I would love to come with you princess, but your mommy banned me from campus so I guess this is where we part ways.” Grumbles Amethyst, a bit too dramatically. Pearl rolls her eyes.

“You didn't have to take the blame for me.” She says simply, leaning against her car. Surprisingly it remained untouched all night despite the heavy traffic of stumbling barcrawlers in the area. 

“Uh, you should have seen the look on your face. Like... like a deer in headlights. How could I not jump in? I'm not stupid you know. I can _read_ people.” She explains, dancing her fingers for emphasis. 

“You can read people.” She echoes, finding the statement hardly amusing. 

“Yeah man I know you were 'bout to be in some deep shit.” Claims the shorter girl. 

“I think anyone with a brain who can discern the basic set of human facial expressions could tell I was in 'deep shit'.” She grins. “But that doesn't mean you had to take the hit.”

“I happen to like you.”

“Yes well now I can't have you over for anything for a while.” Pearl adds, doing little to hide her disappointment.

“What could we have done at your place anyways? No booze. No fun allowed. Den mommy dropping in every 10 minutes to encourage us to 'leave enough space for Jesus!'” She pops with sarcastic enthusiasm. “Trust me, it's no skin off my back.” She explains; but her expression says otherwise. 

Pearl has to resist smiling-- to her it's not supposed to be funny. Rose is her friend and she should do well to defend her or at least excuse her behavior towards Amethyst in some way. But even now, Pearl finds it hard to stand by her long-time friend. Especially when it encroaches so harshly on any attempt to have fun. 

“What do you plan to do with the rest of your Sunday?” Pearl asks, shrugging off the cold. Fog from this morning still clings to this part of town, giving her a sense of calm.

“Ahhh... just stuff n' things.” She explains with a rather obtuse demeanor. The answer itself is lazy to match the tired look on Amethyst's face. “Probably go see G.”

Garnet. Amethyst's mysteriously quiet friend who seems to know more than she ever lets on. Pearl can't help but feel intimidated by her. “...Speaking of which, does she... does she not like me? The only times I've ever seen her she just seems so quiet and removed from conversation.”

“Pffft. That's just how she is. But don't let it fool you. She can get crazy. I mean, in a good way. I don't think she really hates anyone but Marty.”

“Really now? Why does she hate him?”

The answer seems to linger in Amethyst's mouth for a while, but eventually gets stuffed away and replaced with something Pearl can tell is a stock-answer. “She just finds him shady I guess.”

Pearl hums, finding the answer to be expectedly dissatisfying.

“Why the sudden interest in Marty huh? You sure seem to be asking questions.” 

“I think it's only natural to be curious of a man who invites himself into your home and so... boldly interrupts situations without giving any... indiscretion.” She trails, feeling a blush creep up onto her face to accompany her fleeting memories of last night-- wrists cuffed to the bed with Amethyst's hands exploring her body with such familiarity and caution at the same time. Her body heats up in that instant.

“Your mom-friend did the same thing, though. She just let herself into your dorm when we were... having a 'situation', doesn't that mean I should be suspicious of her, too?” Begs Amethyst, displaying a pleased grin. 

“Touché...” 

“Well, anyways. I guess I have to find out what I'm gonna do for our date, huh?”

“As long as it doesn't involve car-jacking or going to a bar I think you'll do fine.” 

Amethyst's attention becomes hyper-focused all too quickly on the latter criteria. “See, when you say 'going to a bar' does that mean all mediums of alcoholic consumption is off-limits?” 

Pearl merely responds with a 'yes'.

“...And the reason for this being???”

The taller girl weighs her reply carefully-- she doesn't want to seem too assuming. “Well I mean... shouldn't we be sober... when we're trying to get to know each other? Almost all the time I've spent with you, however brief... seems to always have... beverages of alcoholic content involved...in some form.”

“Ah, true.” Agrees Amethyst, much to Pearl's surprise. “Hey wait a minute. Car jacking?! Who do you think I am? Aileen Wuornos?”

“Who?” 

“Never mind. I thought my expansive knowledge of infamous criminal women would prove useful some day but apparently not.” She sighs with mock morose. “So you think I jack cars, huh?”

“That's not what I meant... I mean I don't see you like that. It was a horrible attempt at humor.”

A single finger is placed over Pearl's lips. “Leave the jokes to me sweetie.” 

The taller girl brushes the hand away. “Seriously.”

“I know I'm rough. You don't have to worry about offending me with talk like that.” 

“Hrrmm....” Pearl grumbles, struggling to believe the other's lien.

“Believe me, I've heard worse.”

And Pearl doesn't doubt that-- working in bars is bound to turn up all kinds of shrewd insults and observations. 

“So when can I expect toooooo... meet up with you?”

Amethyst digs into her pockets, picking at the fringes of lint as if to help her conjure an answer. “Hey don't ask me, I have a consistent full-time work schedule. You're the one with classes and a wonky part-time gig.”

Pearl spins around, opening her car door and stretching across to reach for her purse in the passenger seat. Amethyst hones in, taking advantage of this small grace by taking in the sight of her bent over. It's never the wrong time to enjoy the view. 

“I think I have my schedule on my phone.” She claims, slipping back out of the car. Amethyst exhales the breath she was holding, biting her lip to quell her on the rise libido. Doesn't take much to get her in the mood to play.

“HEY. PHONE. Give me your DAMN number!” Amethyst cracks, suddenly remembering that she never really received it. 

The outburst catches Pearl by surprise, and she jumps a little. “Would it hurt you to use your manners?”

“I don't need manners, I should have gotten it days ago when I finished your damn game of 20 questions!”

Pearl sighs a little, softening to comply. Amethyst whips out her own phone, and within seconds, she finally has Pearl's number. 

“Great. You'll receive nudes within 6-10 business days.” Says Amethyst brazenly. 

“You... you'll do no such thing!” She sputters, knowing that Amethyst is mostly joking.

“You can't stop me. Anyways. What nights are you free?”

“Nnn... I work Monday, Tuesday and Friday night 'til close. I only have work in the mornings on the weekend so I guess Wednesday, Thursday and any night on the weekend works.”

 _Crap._ Thinks Amethyst. Within nanoseconds she processes multiple answers. If she waits until the weekend she's afraid she'll come off as unenthusiastic. What if she aims for the soonest date? Wednesday? Does that make her look to eager? Is being too eager a turn off? It's better to seem interested than to seem too casual... Thursday? That gives her three days to plan. But why take three days to plan when she could have five? She looks to Pearl, who seems expectant of some kind of indication. Unfortunately Amethyst is terrible when put on the spot, and before she can stop herself “Wednesdaynightthen.” _FUCK._ That's not what she wanted to say. But it's too late. She said it. She said Wednesday. Then again, maybe she said it so fast that Pearl didn't catch it. 

There's a pause. An uncomfortably long one. Amethyst is sweating bullets at her uncontrollable spasm.

“Wednesday? Are you... are you sure?” Questions Pearl, noticing the abruptness in Amethyst's claim, along with the ensuing look of uncertainty. 

Now here is where Amethyst could collect herself and revise her answer, but rather than do that, which would be the right thing to do, “Ab-so-lute....lyyyyy...eeeeeh... Yes... Wednesday. Yea-p...” 

Still unconvinced, Pearl remains in place, eyes glancing around their surroundings in hopes that Amethyst will make some kind of amendment. This part of town looks even scarier during daylight hours, if that's possible. It's dead silent. No cars driving by. None of the street businesses are open. Amethyst is completely still, looking as if she might pass out. 

“You don't seem sure.” Pearl laughs, finding the other girl's flustered nature to be quite enchanting; especially when this very same girl was in a cage fight just the other day. 

“I'M NOT. Okay! I'm not sure! What... what works best for you?” She stumbles, pressing deeper into her pockets and threatening to stab right through the fabric with her fingertips. Why is she so nervous now? This very same person was cuffed to her bed last night-- a date is child's play!

“You're too cute...” Pearl mumbles breathily. “How about Saturday night? I'll come by your place at seven.”

Caught up in the fact that she'd just been called 'cute', it takes several seconds for Amethyst to realize she is being addressed-- her response is less than composed. “O-okay...” _Really? Stuttering?_

“Then I'll see you Saturday.” She confirms, stepping forward and closer into Amethyst's personal space. She feels as if kissing Amethyst goodbye would be appropriate-- however it'd be the first time they've kissed outside of a sexual endeavor, which feels intrinsically wrong now that she thinks about it. 

It's cold out, but as Pearl invites herself closer, Amethyst can feel herself warming up instantly, forcing herself to cast her nervousness aside and look up to the other. A sly comment hangs on the tip of her tongue, wanting badly to tease Pearl about being 'fresh'. No sooner than that, a soft kiss finds its way to her lips, defusing any nervousness or biting tension instantly. 

Wordlessly, Amethyst watches Pearl get into her Prius, fasten her seat belt, and cautiously drive out of her parallel parking spot. She continues watching until the car turns a corner and is out of sight. She wonders if that might be considered creepy. Her lips still tingle from their brief kiss. And now she's left with a whole day of nothing to do but lots to think about. 

… …

Amethyst's flannel lies on the back of her computer chair, reminding her of how little time has passed since she met her, but how so much has happened. She has a date now. A real date. Should she wear something fancy? Something casual? Amethyst will probably wear something casual. Showing up in something dressy might make Pearl seem haughty. But she doesn't want to under-dress, she rather enjoys dressing up. 

That's not what she needs to focus on now. Right now she has homework and an iced friendship she needs to tend to. 

Or not.

She could just do the homework. Let Rose come to her. 

Sounds like a better and easier course of action. 

The dorms are quiet, as per usual on the weekends. Perfect.

Her books are laid out, half-finished worksheets and her laptop soon follow. A cup of overly-sweetened tea is made, with a two shortbread cookies to help stave off her hungered state. She sits on a mat on the floor. Working in her bedroom seems to depress her for some reason; and lacking a roommate certainly opens up the apartment for her pleasure. The dorm only receives local channels, through which she leaves it on the news for background noise.

After answering six questions, she realizes how cold it is and immediately parts with her work to retrieve Amethyst's flannel, donning it and adjusting the thermostat before returning to Astrophysics.

Absently, she finds herself sniffing the sleeves and occasionally rubbing the fabric against her face. Which Pearl keeps trying to justify with 'it smells and feels nice'.

Her phone buzzes, which she's gotten used to ignoring because they've mostly been Rose being confrontational and nosey. It buzzes again, drawing Pearl's gaze for only a moment. 

_No. I have to work._

Another buzz, Pearl scoffs and snatches it up, opening the messages. From Amethyst. Surprise.

[03/11/2015 – 02:16 P.M] 555-820-9606: beep beep bitch  
[03/11/2015 – 02:18 P.M] 555-820-9606: nudes incoming  
[03/11/2015 – 02:29 P.M] 555-820-9606: im kidding please don't ignore me

Pearl can't help but smile, to which she forces herself to stop. No, She needs to work. No distractions.

But it's just texting, not that involving. 

No. No excuses. She places the phone back down, chewing the tip of her pen in defiance to her desire to distract herself. She forces herself to read the next question.

19\. _The use of the principle of the line of sight allows what phenomenon to be determined?_

Her phone buzzes again, to which she sighs and opens another message from Amethyst.

[03/11/2015 – 02:31 P.M] 555-820-9606: what do girls like u eat anyways  
[03/11/2015 – 02:31 P.M] 555-820-9606: girls like u as in  
[03/11/2015 – 02:31 P.M] 555-820-9606: stick ppl

Immediately seafood comes to mind, but other than that she's not too particular. 

It's too soon to be spoiling herself with thoughts of a date. Her academics have slipped this past week, not to mention her sudden nonchalance when it comes to going in to work. She doesn't need the job... her parents have been fairly adamant about paying for her college, but out of some form of pride or spite, she has declined accepting even one penny, which she often finds herself regretting.

She could drop the job at any time and ask her parents to bail her out.

But she'd rather not. She's made it this far without help. May as well keep going. 

Her phone buzzes again.

[03/11/2015 – 02:33 P.M] 555-820-9606: i'm down for anything  
[03/11/2015 – 02:33 P.M] 555-820-9606: tho tbh I wouldn't mind eating between ur legs ;);););)

It takes every ounce of willpower not to throw her phone across the room. Instead, she gently places it back on the coffee table, now too embarrassed to even formulate a response. 

This is all assbackwards.

… …

“I give you perfectly good human food out of the goodness of my heart and this is how you repay me?”

Amethyst pouts, looking down at her cat as she sniffs at a single penne noodle that Amethyst placed there. She's making pasta in between sending obnoxious texts to an unresponsive Pearl. She can't still be driving back to campus can she?

Cunty bats at the softened noodle, playing with it for several seconds before losing interest.

“Ungrateful.” Amethyst mutters, turning back to the stove. Her phone remains blank. Her leg bounces as she stands. Pearl hasn't been gone for more than a few hours and she's already missing her. 

An obnoxiously loud knock at the door relieves her of her one-track minded focus on her phone screen. She knows who it is before the door even opens-- and it does, despite her not calling out to invite them in. Marty's ugly mug soon slinks through the doorway.

“Oh goody.” 

“Oh don't act like you aren't pleased to see me.”

“Dude, you totally cockblocked me last night!” She gripes, pointing at him with a wooden spoon; it still steams from being pulled out of boiling water. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shove this hot spoon up ya' ass.”

“Oh please, as if you were going to get anywhere with _Pearl_. She's a prude.” He carps, digging into his jacket pockets. 

“Close the door bucko, you're letting the heat out.”

“You never have your heat on, what gives?” He questions, bumping the door shut with his elbow.

“The landlord wants me to have it on for a while to test the ventilation. I guess he wants me to tell him if I smell anything 'funny'. Don't ask me.”

Cunty rubs up against Marty's legs; he's the only male that she'll go near, which Amethyst finds strange enough on its own. He seems to ignore her. What is it about men that gives them immunity to the charms of cats? Seems like a boring way to live. 

“Anywayssssssss. Waddya' want?” She sighs, turning back to the stove.

Marty invites himself to sit on top of the counter. “What do you mean 'what do I want'? You're the one who's been ignoring me. You couldn't get rid of me fast enough last night and you ignore my texts.”

“Uh, I don't _ignore_ them. I look at them and forget to respond. It's totally different.” Defends Amethyst. Though in reality she IS ignoring the texts. She doesn't want to deal right now. Not when it would mar her chances of getting a steady girlfriend.

“Welllllll... Giuseppe was pleased with your profits this morning. He says you're his biggest player.”

“I'm not even trying that hard.”

“Exactly. So he's wondering if you'll... you know. Make more? I can book you more gigs, so you don't have to worry about finding the work.”

Amethyst huffs a little. “Ugh... I play the same 14 bars in the area-- don't they get bored of seeing me?”

“Not really. You're hot, you play good music and you give out _treats_.” Flatters Marty. 

She pops a noodle in her mouth to see if its soft enough yet. Marty and her go way back, but its comments like those that leave her feeling awkward and unsure of what to say. “That or they're too drunk to recognize me.”

Marty gives a small scoff, dropping the flattery and jumping straight to business. “I have your goodies for the next two weeks downstairs in the car. I'll need help bringing them up.”

“Uh, thanks but no thanks. I'm gonna skip for a while. I can't have Pearl in and out of my apartment and chance having her find that stuff.” And of course, the silence that follows indicates confusion from Marty. Well, confusion or slight irritation. 

“You gotta be kidding.”

“Dude, she's like... so anti-everything. If she found a single ounce or saw me doing that she'd be gone.”

“And whats the harm in that? If you gotta work that hard, it ain't workin'. You got tons of lesbians hopping on you at the bars. And they don't give you the run-around. They'll sleep with you and leave you alone.”

Amethyst sighs again. “Dude. That's the POINT. Of a GIRLFRIEND. I'm not just going to sleep with her. I want someone to.. I dunno'... CUDDLE with and watch stupid B-rate horror flicks with.” She whines, stirring her pasta absently. 

Marty folds his brows. “Uh... right... well... I mean... I thought you needed the money. Aren't you still being slammed with those surgical bills?”

Amethyst is quiet, which indicates a 'yes'. She keeps forgetting that she's in massive debt-- as strange as it is to forget something like that. She turns the heat off, bringing the pot over to the sink and dumping noodles into the strainer. “Would skipping it for a few weeks really be so bad? At least until I can see if it'll get serious...”

“And if it DOES get serious then you'll never get back to supplying and the bills will just keep coming. You know, you could just put it in a lock box. Even if she's nosey she can't get into one of those without knowing the combo.”

Amethyst groans. “I'm tired of work-playing-dealing-sleep... I need a vacation.”

“If that's how you feel, then just do it a bit longer until the debt is paid off and you can quit dealing for good. How much do you have left?”

“Man I don't know. I just have it on automatic withdraw from my checking account. Last I checked it was at like at eight grand.”

“And you think your half-ass brewing job in tandem with playing in bars is enough to keep a hold on that with everything else? Jeez, how much are they paying you?”

“The pay is shit, so yeah you're right about not being able to keep on top of things. But I'm too lonely to be satisfied by stupid one-night stands anymore.” She complains, leaning against the fridge and blowing some hair out of her face. She really should invest in hair clips...

“Look, I can spot you a lock box. Giuseppe would just see it as a business expense.”

“Am I really that important? Don't you have like four or five other bands you could headhunt?”

“Do you know how hard it is to get people to play my games? Not everyone is as... well...”

“Desperate as I am?” Finishes Amethyst. It's no big secret that she'd pretty much do anything for money. It's not like she has wealthy parents who can help her out. And her sister has been estranged for years. “Yeah I guess you can't just walk up to anyone with an instrument and greasy hair and ask them to sell a bag of X...” 

“Mmm...” Marty hates being aggressive. Especially towards women. “I can shift some of the workload onto Vidalia, if you like. You both can split for the next few weeks. That way you can have your cake and eat it, too.”

“That's actually really cool of you, man.” She breathes. “What's the catch?”

“Catch? There's no catch.” He says simply. He's really just trying to be flexible. As long as he's consistent with the money he hands Giuseppe, he couldn't care less who's selling what. “I mean, I guess it'd get pretty dicey if you quit altogether.”

Amethyst tilts her head, squinting. “Dicey? Is that a threat?” She asks, grinning in disbelief. 

“Well I mean. I imagine anyone would be upset if their best employee just up and quit for no reason.” He elaborates, now seeming to avoid eye contact.

“I'm not an 'employee'. It sounds like you're saying he'll give me flack if I stop selling.”

Marty is notably uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation, working hard to deflect suspicion. “Look, I wouldn't know how he operates in that situation. I haven't seen anyone quit yet. Who's to say what he'll do. But he seems very attached to the revenue you bring in.”

Amethyst glares a little. Marty is flaky when it comes to getting straight answers. “Whatever. Lets go get the stuff already.”

Rather than play off of Amethyst's sudden bitterness, Marty simply nods and agrees. Possibly out of fear of agitating her further. “Right...”

… …

Finally, after pressing through the rest of her astrophysics homework, Pearl indulges herself in finally replying to the slew of messages from Amethyst. 

[03/11/2015 – 02:33 P.M] 555-820-9606: tho tbh I wouldn't mind eating between ur legs ;);););)  
[03/11/2015 – 04:01 P.M] Me: Keep talking like that and you'll starve.  
[03/11/2015 – 04:01 P.M] Me: I'm fine with anything, as long as seafood isn't involved.

It occurs to her that there are other messages in her inbox. From Rose.

A sigh escapes her lips. For a moment she has to wonder if Marty did as Amethyst doubted and shared some juicy gossip of last night, but upon opening the messages, she pleasantly finds no evidence of prying. 

[03/11/2015 – 03:23 P.M] Rose: I couldn't help but notice your Prius in the lot.  
[03/11/2015 – 03:24 P.M] Rose: Come over to my place and help me with astro? We have pizza. :) 

Pearl's eyes immediately hone in on 'we'. So Gregory is with her. She really should let go of her disdain for him. After all, he did push her into pursuing Amethyst. He's not that bad of a guy...

She eyes her now completed homework. She supposes she could still compare answers. And at the same time... possibly make up. If there's much making up to do anyways. Based on previous disagreements, they typically just avoid the conflict altogether and act like nothings wrong. 

Which is no doubt unhealthy. But what can you do?

Rose doesn't really need help with Astrophysics-- they typically always have the same answers. But it may just be her way of saying 'lets move on'.

[03/11/2015 – 03:29 P.M] Me: I'll be over in a few minutes, then.


	14. dances with devils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> amethyst sucks at lying and pearl embarrasses herself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by tumblr user [nowicanbreathe](http://nowicanbreathe.tumblr.com/), who performed the quality checks this time. Make sure you follow her and tell her she's wonderful. 
> 
> Also, some (in my opinion) big news; tumblr user [captainfancyhat](http://captainfancyhat.tumblr.com/), has honestly adopted a kitten, named her Cunty Destroyer, and even got an official 'Cunt Destroyer' collar. You can find the pics on their blog. ;)
> 
> And finally, info about this chapter: It's what I like to call a 'breather' chapter. So don't worry about soul-crushing drama just yet.

“The left side has more rings than the right,” she observes aloud, albeit nonchalantly. Rose cracks a small grin, familiar with her friend's penchant for over-analyzation and obsession with perfection. The student, who's name is Peridot, makes a small groan in reply. Rose has recruited a handful of campus residents with no weekend plans to help set up the student activity center for the big spring dance.

“I don't think that's really a concern. This dance is going to last 3-4 hours tops. No one is going to be preoccupied with the symmetry of construction-paper-made decorations,” says Peridot, mildly annoyed.

“Don't mind her,” Rose laughs, resting a single hand on Pearl's shoulder. “She hasn't had her coffee yet,” she explains, noting the time-- 8:47 a.m.

Pearl has no recollection of how she even wound up here. She is simply here. Rose came by her apartment and asked if she'd help oversee the whole set-up for the dance. She mumbles something under her breath, finding the warmth in Rose's hand comforting, but at the same time, irritating. She's tired, and she'd rather be well-rested for her date-- even if it is tomorrow. She was planning on going out and splurging a little of her overtime money on a new outfit just for the occasion. Something cute. Something semi-expensive so she'll resist drinking and therefore avoiding puking all over herself like she did during their first encounter. Oh how embarrassed she is every time she remembers...

“Is she just here to nag at the set-up crew or is she actually going to do something helpful?” comes Peridot, cautiously stepping down from the ladder-- heights are clearly something she has a beef with.

“The cafe opens at nine, she'll have coffee and be good to go by 9:15-- right Pearl-girl?”

Pearl only makes a small throaty sound to confirm. It would make more sense to have the dance in the gym-- like every other school dance in the world. But they're having it in the student activity center-- where people have to move tables and chairs out of the way to clear the floor and basically do so much unnecessary work that it hardly justifies having it in the first place. Weren't dances supposed to be a middle school / high school thing?

Rose takes a seat at one of the tables left out; it's littered with decoration supplies: streamers, construction paper, glitter, a bucket of glow sticks. It's pretty piss-poor, but apparently Gregory is supposed to come by later with more stuff.

Pearl's eyes wander for a moment to the cafe counter. A barista has come into work but they're not open yet. She sighs quietly and takes a seat opposite of her friend, who is now making another construction paper chain. Somehow the choice of decoration doesn't seem befitting of a college event. Then again, a majority of the campus population still behave like children, anyways.

Things have been relatively normal between them now. They seem to have a silent agreement that talking about Pearl's behavior recently is a moot subject-- and maybe Rose even understood that she was overstepping her boundaries a bit in trying to mediate Pearl's first courtship since their own awkward experience a year ago.

The fact is, Pearl wants little to do with this dance. Yes, she'd agreed to go, but that was with the small hope that she could attend with Amethyst-- a now-impossible fantasy due to the two-week ban placed by none other than Rose herself. Oh the agony...

 

Since that embarrassing fiasco, Pearl, losing trust in herself to keep anything hidden, disposed of her remaining alcohol supply; knowing full and well that despite the facade of a mended friendship, Rose might be more suspicious and nosey as ever. Being an alcoholic is nothing like it it's depicted in movies or on tv.. at least not for Pearl. She's not one-track minded and planning when she can get her next inebriated fix. At least not this time around.

Pearl's attention meanders back to Rose, who looks up at the same time from her meager paper-craft and smiles warmly. “Whatcha' thinking about?”

Pearl doesn't know what an acceptable answer is. She doesn't want to admit she's thinking about Amethyst, mostly out of fear that Rose will try to mediate or have a motherly comment about 'being careful'. So naturally, she spews out whatever generic answer she can think of. “What flavor coffee I'm in the mood for.” She sighs, actually making herself sound more tired and irritated than she really feels. Maybe she can gain some pity-points and be dismissed back to her dorm, where she can cocoon herself in bed while watching more space docs on Netflix.

And mission may have been accomplished, as Rose's smile remains cordial. “Oh Pearl, you know you don't have to stay and help. I'm sure the five of us will do just fine.”

“Five?” comes Peridot. Pearl almost forgot about the spectacled student, now climbing down from her ladder to retrieve more décor. “I only see three of us,” she alludes, pushing her glasses up in a manner that Pearl observes to be rather sassy. How can anyone turn such a gesture into sass? Who knows.

Rose then turns her smile onto Peridot. “Greg will be here soon with one of his friends. And I asked one of the art students, I think her name is Lapis, to come help out. That makes five.”

For whatever reason, Peridot's lips contort into some kind of pleased grin, but quickly retracts. “Lazuli is going to be here?”

“I hope so. She seemed rather indifferent to my asking, but I bribed her with as much coffee as she can drink. I don't think any college student in their right mind would pass that up,” she laughs, beginning to cut new strips of paper.

Pearl knows Lapis. Barely. She designed the flyers last year for the Swan Lake production; as well as designed several of the flyers for informational presentations on campus and for the school orchestra. She always has such a... frankly, depressed look on her face; which makes approaching her kind of difficult for Pearl. But it doesn't surprise her that Rose can talk to her; Rose is one of 'those' people who can talk to anyone.

“And uhm... what specific task... will she be assigned to?” queries Peridot, in more words than necessary.

“Well I suppose you can switch jobs with her; you're more into machines and stuff right? You could help Greg set up the sound equipment when they get here. Lapis can do the decorating.”

The amount of facial expression that passes over Peridot is quite amusing, but ultimately she seems a little downcast at the prospect of helping with sound equipment. It's so blatantly obvious that Peridot has a school-girl crush on Lapis. Pearl can't help but crack a small grin. Watching other people pursue love interests is something of entertainment. Since Peridot and Pearl share some of the same classes, she's come to notice small things. Like how when they leave Astrophysics every day, Peridot knows that Lapis' class ends 10 minutes later, one hall away, and she'll meander around until then just for the chance to catch a glimpse of her. It's kind of cute, really.

Peridot picks up on this. “What are _you_ grinning at?”

Pearl quickly distinguishes her smile. “I'm not grinning,” she asserts with a vague hint of teasing.

Peridot purses her lips, collecting more streams of paper to hang up.

“Although, I hope you can keep your cool when Lapis gets here.”

Rose emits a small gasp. “Oh no, are you two not on good terms? I ask tell her not to come,” she voices with a genuine concern.

Pearl's grin returns; from Rose's uninformed assumption, and because Peridot seems mortified; as if her affection for Lazuli weren't obvious whatsoever.

“D'aahh...yeehhh... I mean! It's not like we're on BAD terms,” Peridot rebuts, with animated air quotes at the word 'bad'. “We're just not on GOOD terms either. But... I mean, we're not on ANY terms, if you're implying any kind of terms. We aren't even on ACQUAINTANCE TERMS. She doesn't know me. I don't know her. There are no 'terms' here. None. Whatsoever,” she asserts, directing a sharp glare at Pearl.

Rose has no way to react other than another warm, yet bewildered smile. Pearl takes satisfaction in this somehow.

“She can play around with these stupid chains all she wants. I don't care!” her voice cracks a little, only furthering Pearl's gratification. The short blonde then turns in a small huff, returning to her ladder. Rose and Pearl share a look of amusement.

“Seriously, though, we have it covered if you wanna go catch some more sleep.”

“I'd feel awful if I left. I said I would help.” Pearl admits-- she really would feel a little terrible in flaking out, but at the same time she doesn't think she could function very well in her current state: A state of tired, nervous and excited for her date with Amethyst.

“And I would feel awful if I deprived you of sleep! Sleep is such a precious thing,” she counters, with no hint of sarcasm.

“I'll be fine,” Pearl concludes, having a change of heart. Aside from the fact that the guilt would eventually ruin her day, she decides that it could be fun to watch Peridot try to keep cool when Lapis arrives. 

The cafe finally, to Pearl's relief, sets the sign to 'open'.

“Well if you insist,” chimes Rose, rising from her chair. “What flavor did you want?”

“Perhaps just a White Mocha. Tall.”

“The same for me,” comes another voice. “But with soy.”

Pearl lazily turns her head to see Lapis taking up the empty seat at the table.

“Please tell me these paper chains aren't the only decoration. Or are we going to eat off of Zoopal plates and have balloons with little faces on them, too?” She jests wearily. She appears to be severely sleep deprived, judging by the dark circles under her eyes. Then again, she always looks like that.

Rose and Pearl both share a small laugh. “Actually that's why I asked you to come help. I have no idea how to decorate, as you can tell.”

“Somehow I don't think college kids care much for how the dance will look as long as you play shitty music and have free food.”

Pearl agrees 100% with this, but Rose is determined in having decorations regardless. “Well, balloons of course. Do they even make Zoopals plates anymore?”

“They most certainly do,” Pearl confirms, having distinct memories of her horrible ex-roommate who, when running out of normal dishes, would live off of paper plates. The solid image of their trash bin overflowing with those stupid messy animal faces is what most of Pearl's nightmares are made of.

She glances over to Peridot, perched on the ladder with a dumbfounded expression aimed at Lapis, who is completely oblivious to it.

Rose leaves to go fetch their caffeine fix. Rather clumsily, Peridot clambers down the ladder, making a very indiscreet shuffle towards Rose at the counter.

“Are you going to the dance?” asks Lapis, drawing Pearl's attention back. Her tone maintains a bored demeanor.

“Yeah, but not for a long time. Are you?”

“I have nothing better to do, so I guess I am,” reasons Lapis. “I'd rather stay on campus than go back to my parents' for a week.”

“You're... going to be here all spring break?” Pearl and Lapis turn to see Peridot, now suddenly here... and not with Rose as she was a few seconds ago. It's only slightly creepy.

Lapis observes the short girl once over, maintaining the same unimpressed expression. “Who're you again?”

Peridot fumbles over herself, trying to play it cool. “I'm uh... I'm P-Peridot,” she claims with a tone that could be pride or crippling nervousness.

“Oh. Ok.” she yawns before giving an answer. “Yes. I'm stuck on this miserable campus for the next seven days. But I suppose it won't be so bad. My roommate will be gone for most of it.”

“Oh? Who's your roommate?” Pearl queries, eliminating Peridot's chance at a conversation. Teasing her is just too easy.

“That meat-headed hyper bitch Jasper.”

Pearl's thoughts come to a halt. Jasper? As in the Jasper she saw cage fighting? That brute who-- THAT Jasper? SHE is a college student? How has Pearl never seen her on campus? Is she really so oblivious to her surroundings? ...Then again, she doubts if Jasper would have any classes in common let alone in the same building... so maybe it shouldn't be a surprise that they haven't crossed paths. After all, how can someone Lapis refers to as 'meat-headed hyper bitch' be involved with classes that involve a demanding level of intelligence.

Unfortunately, any recollection of Jasper only brings forth the image of Amethyst's bruised and bloody face. Any chance of Pearl reconciling or tolerating the very existence of Jasper is horribly low.

“Jasper? As in THE Jasper; the girl who plays like every sport and is basically the Cormac McLaggen of the school?” Peridot asks. The reference completely goes over Pearl's head, but giving the amused scoff from Lapis, she actually does get the joke. 

“...So you're into Harry Potter?” comes Lapis. Her face remains placid, but her tone seems a hair more amused than the usual vacancy. 

“Uhm... psh... Absolutely not,” denies Peridot with absolutely nothing convincing in her voice. “It's not like I own all of the books in first edition. And I certainly don't have the blu-ray set of the movies. And my room absolutely does not have a disgusting amount of posters and memorabilia. I am a college student-- an adult. I am mature and sophisticated and do not need to distract myself with fictional wizards.”

“So that's a yes,” Lapis deciphers with the closest thing to a smile Pearl has ever seen. 

“Yeap,” confirms Peridot, overcome with an embarrassed, crinkly grin.

“Cool. I would ask to borrow the movies but a blu-ray player is beyond what I would call a luxury.”

Peridot bites her lip in consideration. Seeing the glaring opportunity to INVITE the Lazuli over to watch the movies...TOGETHER...

Pearl can actually see this struggle tearing through Peridot's nerves. To put it simply, it's painful to watch.

“D'yauh.. I mean. I-I.. I don't really use...the blu-ray player that often. I've been....gaming a lot,” explains Peridot, wiggling her fingers for no reason whatsoever. “I wouldn't be...opposed to parting with it for a...however long...” She chokes at the end of her sentence, realizing she just screwed herself over in a matter of seconds. The embarrassing grin returns with full force.

If Pearl could, she would facepalm. This is just too much. She thought that she could be awkward at time, but Peridot takes it to a whole new level.

As Lapis is about to respond, a paper cup of hot coffee is placed in front of her, as well as Pearl. Rose stands between them, looking at everyone with an uncomfortably awake expression. She obviously has no need of caffeine beyond that of a craving and likely is one of THOSE people who actually get a good night's rest. Every night.

“Oh I'm so glad everyone is getting along,” she admires with a genuine enthusiasm.

“I hope the party didn't start without me,” arrives yet another voice. Pearl doesn't have to turn around to know that it's Gregory. He is surprisingly on time. For once.

“The party don't start til you walk in,” flirts Rose, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

Pearl can physically feel her own nausea at this interaction. She quells this, however, because deep down she knows it’s unhealthy to oppose their relationship based on petty, baseless dislikes. After all, Greg did help her out not long ago to set her up with Amethyst. He's not so bad a bad guy.

“I hope everyone is ready for the best damn concert of their short college lives,” points Greg, tussling his own hair. The enthusiasm among the three seated at the table could not be any lower.

“Did you bring the goods?” asks Rose.

“You know I did.” Greg replies, reaching into his abnormally deep pockets and retrieving a bag of colorful balloons. He faux-dramatically places them onto the table between the girls. Rose makes a small squeal. She apparently really wanted these balloons.

“Do we have a helium tank?” Pearl raises.

“Huh?” Both Greg and Rose return in unison.

“...Helium, for the balloons?” She reiterates.

The couple looks between each other for a moment. And Pearl can pretty much chalk that up as a no.

\-----

Having shamelessly drifted off last night in a blunder of beer and cheetos while watching an array of Netflix garbage, Amethyst is awakened by the shrill and agonizing alarm tone, set to Rebecca Black's Friday, a special alarm just for waking up on Fridays. She hates the song, but figures it’s just annoying enough to force her to get up. And she's always right. Her hand fumbles around the coffee table for the device, quickly disarming the music, while smearing last night's cheeto dust all over the screen.

Cunty stretches, having also been awoken by the ringing.

Amethyst, despite her best effort, breezed through this entire week having made no solid plans for her date with Pearl tomorrow. Oh yes, it' the cliché concept of 'I don't wanna be corny, it's gotta be unique and perfect'. And through all her fretting, thinking and re-thinking, she keeps coming up empty handed. 

Going to the movies and to dinner is such an overused idea that Amethyst couldn't possibly bring herself to do it. 

A walk in the park seems so pointless, not to mention nerve-wracking since she doesn't exactly live in a 'nice' area; and going on a walk is too personal. She would have no idea what to talk about. 

Netflix and chill is out of the question, given how...well, not-so-disastrous the last time went, but it's just a lazy idea. Going to a bar is also a no-no-- she'd rather not make 'getting wasted' a central theme this time. It seems to be all they've done whenever they've been around each other. Is get intoxicated 

An aimless drive? Definitely not. Her truck is on its last legs. 

She googles date ideas on her phone, mumbling page titles as she sees them. 

“'It's time for fun, quality time with your husband.'” She looks to Cunty, as if expecting a remark. “It has 50 ideas. ONE of them has to be relevant to me, a butch with a priss to impress.” the feline blinks slowly, which apparently Amethyst takes as a 'go for it'.

“Idea 5, 'Getting Physical on the Living Room Floor', Working out and exercising together? Are you kidding me? And 6, going birdwatching? Is that a joke???” Cunty gets up, walking towards the kitchen. 

“Wait no come back! There's nothing wrong with birdwatching, it's just not very romantic!” The feline trills in response from the other room, and Amethyst returns to her phone screen. The list goes on, seeming to get more and more ridiculous with each idea. 

17\. Forage for Mushrooms Together.

“FORAGE FOR MUSHROOMS? IS THIS REAL? Is this what heterosexuals do?!” Amethyst tries to indulge the idea, looking for a way in which it could possibly be romantic. Walking through a forest with Pearl. Probably getting lost. Finding nothing. Getting poison ivy or something. Attacked by a bear, somehow. Or perhaps it would turn out like that horror movie series with the inbred cannibals hunting them down. So no to the hiking. Absolutely not. Besides, it's still to cold in the year for that crap. 

18\. Brew Your Own Beer.

“Okay. I work at a Brewery, so no thanks.”

20\. Go Clubbing. 

“Pearl's too awkward.”

26\. Go to a Museum. 

“Actually... she might like that kinda junk.” She admits, making note of it on her phone.

32\. Hit a morning Matinee.

“It was only a matter of time until they suggested going to a damn movie.” She sighs.

It's then that she notices the message notification at the top. The usual string of texts; other kids looking for a hook-up, which Amethyst has been blatantly avoiding all week. Messages from Marty asking her why she hasn't been selling. Buck asking if he can borrow her truck again. And surprisingly, Pearl's name graces her inbox. 

Out of some now-pointless respect for Pearl, Amethyst rubs the remaining cheeto dust onto her shorts, wiping the screen across her chest to try cleaning it. Can't text a classy woman like Pearl with filthy hands.

[03/15/2015 – 7:19 A.M] Purl: I wish it were Saturday, already.  
[03/15/2015 – 7:19 A.M] Purl: I'm eager to see what you call a date, lol.

“Oh honey I don't even know what I would call a date.” Amethyst laughs. Cunty can be heard meowing from the other room, signaling for her food bowl to be replenished. 

[03/15/2015 – 7:24 A.M] Purl: I hate to admit it but I'm still upset that you're banned from campus. Now I have to go to the Spring Dance alone.  
[03/15/2015 – 7:25 A.M] Purl: I mean... I already didn't want to go, but I was going to ask you to go with me... I thought it would make it bearable.   
[03/15/2015 – 7:28 A.M] Purl: But maybe you're not into that kind of thing lol.

“That is where she is wrong.” Admits Amethyst, slipping off the couch and following Cunty's meows. “I am actually 12 years old and love going to school events for free food and over-analyzing complete strangers.”

She retrieves dry kibble from the pantry, noting that Cunty's bowl isn't even empty, and actually has a sizable amount left, but for some reason cats just think they're going to starve if it's not piled in a heaping mound. So Amethyst tops it off with more, to which Cunty doesn't even eat. She just seems pleased to have it filled for no reason.

“When are you gonna get a job, girl?” Asks Amethyst, crouched over the bowl while her cat goes about grooming herself. 

[03/15/2015 – 7:32 A.M] Purl: I don't know why you decided to take the blame for me that night. But I appreciate it...  
[03/15/2015 – 7:33 A.M] Purl: Anyways you should message me when you're up. I have to help set up for the dance today and I need more than caffeine to get through this.   
[03/15/2015 – 7:33 A.M] Purl: I actually usually enjoy planning and setting events up. Lately I've just been so tired and unfocused.   
[03/15/2015 – 7:35 A.M] Purl: Sorry for rambling.   
[03/15/2015 – 7:37 A.M] Purl: Anyways can I have a hint for the date? A place or an object involved??

Amethyst, without thinking, starts to type 'The hints for place are, my bed, and an object involved is a strap-on :)' but immediately backspaces the whole thing, deciding that it's too early in the morning for that kind of talk. 

“Man, she's going to be at that dance all by herself! How am I gonna' sit here comfortably tonight knowing she's flying solo with a bunch of snotty college kids? I bet some white dude is gonna chat her up.” Amethyst whines, looking to her still-grooming cat. “I honestly feel like you don't listen to me anymore. Where's the love?”

Back to her phone, she stares at the blinking cursor, having no idea what to say. Hints? She can't hint at anything if she's still empty handed. But as a compulsive liar and a somewhat narcissist, she has no problem coming up with bullshit.

[03/15/2015 – 8:06 A.M] Me: The hint is it's gonna be tight as HELL......,,,,,  
[03/15/2015 – 8:06 A.M] Me: At a very rad place.  
[03/15/2015 – 8:06 A.M] Me: So rad.  
[03/15/2015 – 8:06 A.M] Me: It's simply top secret.  
[03/15/2015 – 8:06 A.M] Me: Objects involved are us. Having a super not lame time. Doing not lame things. 

“I'm so fucked.” She groans. “There's gotta be something cool we can do.” And then it hits her. 

“I can ask Garnet. She's a guru on romantic crap.” 

Cunty trills quietly, as if this were a two-way conversation. 

“Oh I get it. You're like... the child who doesn't want your mom to find another man. Well, Pearl isn't a man. What could be greater than having two moms?”

The cat stretches out before finding a comfortable spot on the kitchen tile to soak in the morning sun. 

“I bought you a cat bed and you never even use it. In-fact, I think you have two cat beds.”

No response. 

Text alert.

[03/15/2015 – 8:08 A.M] Purl: Somehow that's not very convincing. :|  
[03/15/2015 – 8:09 A.M] Purl: Should I be worried?  
[03/15/2015 – 8:10 A.M] Me: Noooo wayyyyyy. I got this.   
[03/15/2015 – 8:10 A.M] Me: I am simply The Best at dating. Leave it to me. 

“Tbh I'm actually dead.” She admits to Cunty, who merely meows in agreement.

\-----

“I think... I think I have...asthma.” Chokes Peridot, after having blown up a grand total of two (2) balloons. Greg holds the lead with 26. 

“Did you try stretching it out first?” He asks, observing a wheezing Peridot as she lies bent over the table. 

“I don't think she can stretch anything. Have you seen these arms?” Lapis observes, reaching over and holding Peridot's meek bicep between her thumb and index finger. Peridot doesn't even argue. 

“Perhaps, I can begin working on something better-suited to my strengths. For example, the sound equipment.” She suggests, looking up at Greg and Rose. There's a very noticeable tinge to her cheeks that Pearl knows is not just because she's winded from trying to inflate balloons. Lapis touched her, even if it was out of a gesture to make fun of her build. 

Pearl, having not produced one balloon, from sheer sleepiness, rises from her chair. “I'll join you.”

Peridot squints, wondering what such a quick offer could hold in terms of....compensation. “I can handle it myself. I'm pretty competent in this kind of stuff.” 

“Well I'm not doing any good here.” Pearl observes. 

“I think it's a wonderful idea.” Says Rose sweetly. Why does everything she say have to sound so enthused and chipper. “It'll save time. If we finish early we can all go out and get lunch together. I'll buy.”

Pearl is always so amazed at how careless Rose is with her currency. Then again, her education has been completely paid for by a mixture of responsible parents with a savings fund, and many many many grants and scholarships. Her housing pays for itself since she's an RA. So the money she gets from being a Student Activity Coordinator is all for luxury. And Rose certainly is a people pleaser. 

At the mention of 'free food', the group perks up, with the exception of Lapis, who raises a brow.

“Very well then! I will accept your... assistance.” Relents Peridot. Really, college kids are a demographic of their own. It doesn't take much to earn their loyalty, even if it is temporary. 

Lapis is somewhat of an anomaly. Not showing preference to any task. Pearl was going to offer for Lapis to come with them, out of sheer need for entertainment, but remembers that Lapis' purpose is for artistic input. 

“We shall... reconvene here when we have finished.” Adds Peridot, taking a not-so-discreet glance to Lapis, who is checking her phone for the moment. 

As Pearl and Peridot distance themselves from the group, Pearl simply cannot help herself projecting onto the current situation. 

“You're absolutely awful at this.” Comes Pearl. 

Peridot makes an indiscernible yelp.“Excuse me?”

“To quote something you said not even a half hour ago, 'you can borrow my blu-ray player'. What were you thinking?!” Pearl questions, emitting an amused laugh. 

Peridot's brows crinkle like a used napkin. “I was being genuine!”

"Oh come on. I wouldn't trust just anyone with 'borrowing' an expensive piece of equipment like a blu-ray player.” 

“Well maybe I'm just more trusting than you.” Blushes Peridot, still clinging to her false ignorance. 

They both arrive at the 'stage', where Greg's band will be set up, as well as the DJ. And 'stage' meaning several wooden crates bunched together with a large white sheet draped over it. College student budget. 

“I seriously doubt that.” Pearl admits, observing the pile of sound equipment. Greg's guitar is haphazardly placed on the floor, looking abandoned. “You're INCREDIBLY obvious. I think the only reason Lapis Lazuli hasn't noticed your erratic behavior is because she's just... in a constant state of 'whatever'. But just so you know, like... everyone in the arts and sciences building knows about you and your 'schedule'.”

“Schedule?” Peridot echoes. “I.. I don't know what you mean.” Clearly a lie.

“Oh please. It's so obvious. You like her.”

“The Lazuli? As if.” Peridot scoffs. 

“Okay. You're very unconvincing. And you can;t fool me. So I'll just go ahead and say my peace and we can get down to hooking this stuff up.” Pearl explains, looking to Peridot with the best serious face she can muster given the circumstances. 

“If I were you, I would just like... during the Spring break, head over to her room...what dorm building is she in?” 

“Unum building.” She reveals without even a single moment's hesitation. Pearl is honestly not surprised. 

Pearl doesn't know why she's taken such an interest in the affairs of someone else. She hardly knows Peridot. In fact she's just a common face in some of her classes, but there's just something about her situation that calls out to Pearl. Is it the gay thing? Is it the crushing on a fellow student thing? Is it the fact that they are both nerds thing? She doesn't know, but her obvious infatuation is something that, in Pearl's opinion, beckons to be guided. 

“Okay, so all you really have to do is go up to the security desk and ask them what room she's in. Bring your player, bring the Harry Potter, and just like.... you know... be like... 'hey, wanna chill?'”Pearl herself admits that this advice is absolutely horrible, but she can tell by the look on Peridot's face that the advice resonated to a certain degree. 

“I''ve seen Lapis around. And I can tell, she doesn't have many friends. And I can tell even more that she really needs attention. Not romantic, specifically, but she needs someone to be there for her.”

“Are you drunk?” Asks Peridot, squinting up at Pearl.

“It's not even 9:00 am.” She replies. 

“I know but like... there are people who have the mentality that it's 'always 5:00 somewhere!!!!', so I was just asking.”

“Valid.” Pearl confirms. Thinking of how Amethyst might be the type to have that sort of mindset. “But I assure you, I'm not drunk on alcohol Though I might be a little more intrusive than usual because I'm tired. But also, I just like helping people.”

Peridot's suspicion seems to downplay, notably. “Fair enough.” 

“I'm not saying you need to go about it exactly as I suggest, but... I don't know... I'm a firm believer that life is better when it's filled with oh-well's than filled with what-ifs.” 

“Explain.” Demands Peridot, already crouched over a pile of cords and sorting through them.

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously.”

“Like...! Wouldn't you rather do something and fail, than spend the rest of your life wonder what would have happened if you DID do it?” Pearl asks, crouching next to her. She glances back to the others just to make sure they're distracted. Greg is blowing on a balloon, Rose is texting, and Lapis is staring out a window, looking vacant. 

“It depends on how probable it is that I will be rejected or embarrassed.” Peridot affirms. 

“Okay well... rejection is just a fact of life. You can't just succeed in everything you do.” 

“If I'm confident and educated enough, then yes, I CAN succeed in everything I do.” Argues Peridot.

Then, it occurs to Pearl, the thought of 'how can we possibly be the same age', which she quickly shuts down, because she knows better. 

“Okay, you're right. But human interaction is whole other level. Like... in my opinion, and based on my observations, you should really just go for it.” She declares. 

Peridot, apparently, ponders this ideal. 

“That and it's just so awkward for me to watch. I am simply uncomfortable.”

“Wow. Thanks.” She grumbles. 

“You're welcome.” Pearl hums. But immediately, finds herself second guessing her involvement. She's not one to really interject into other's personal matters, especially someone she's never even conversed with-- aside from maybe passing comments in class discussions. And it crosses Pearl's mind-- isn't this similar to what Rose did to her a year ago, in some way? Despite glaring differences, the fact still stands that Pearl, without prompting, shoved advice onto someone who didn't ask for it.

“Okay actually I'm so sorry.” Changes Pearl. 

Peridot stops fiddling with tangled wires, looking to Pearl with a very confused and wrinkled expression. “Wha?”

“I mean... I'm so weird. I hardly know you and I just tried giving you some half-baked advice based on an assumption I made within the span of about 45 minutes, when I can hardly get my own romance rolling. I'm a hypocrite and a creep.... a hypocreep.” She relents, burying her face into her palms.

“Huh? Oh, uh... I mean. You're not wrong... about the weird thing. But I didn't find it....creepy. Not at all.” She admits, pushing through her own brand of awkwardness. 

Pearl isn't convinced. She suddenly wishes that this whole morning wasn't real and that she was actually still in bed, having an unbearably awkward dream. 

“I actually... I guess I'm more surprised that I've been so...painfully... obvious.” She adds, cringing at her own admittance. 

“Really?” Jumps Pearl. “Waiting for her outside her classroom? I'm surprised she herself didn't recognize you when she came in this morning. She must be a whole class of oblivious all on her own.”

“And what does it say about you for noticing me?” Cackles Peridot. 

“It says that I'm observant, and haven't lost the will to remain cognizant yet, unlike the many many students on this campus who have resigned to performing at bare-minimum.”

“...I suppose.” Peridot agrees.

“...Anyways. I apologize for my advice, even though you say it wasn't creepy.”

“Apology accepted..?” Peridot, reasonably flustered by the conversation, decides that the best course of action here is to change the subject. “So uh...about the homework in Astrophysics...”


	15. girls just wanna have fun pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ditch the dance, go to the mall with strangers.

[03/15/2015 – 8:11 A.M] Me: Dear Garnet,  
[03/15/2015 – 8:11 A.M] Me: Buddy 'ol Pal  
[03/15/2015 – 8:11 A.M] Me: Dearest Compadre  
[03/15/2015 – 8:11 A.M] Me: Wise lovely friend  
[03/15/2015 – 8:12 A.M] Me: I've had a week to think about what I should do for my first Date   
[03/15/2015 – 8:12 A.M] Me: Meaning I've used none of that time to actually think about it  
[03/15/2015 – 8:13 A.M] Me: And now I am in Deep Shit  
[03/15/2015 – 8:13 A.M] Me: Please assist me  
[03/15/2015 – 8:13 A.M] Me: Sincerely  
[03/15/2015 – 8:13 A.M] Me: Ametrash  
[03/15/2015 – 8:15 A.M] Me: P.S.  
[03/15/2015 – 8:15 A.M] Me: You look Great today

Those texts were sent this morning. Amethyst is just now getting off of work. It's 6:02 P.M. This could mean that Garnet is either just Too Busy to look at her phone, or she has absolutely no intention of spoon feeding Amethyst any more romantic advice. Perhaps it is strategic on her part; maybe Garnet knows Amethyst better and believes that at the right moment, Amethyst can skillfully whip out the most romantic, amazing, and exciting date plan known to lesbian kind. 

Upon tapping through her inbox, more texts from Marty have stacked throughout the day, which she will give the same treatment as Garnet does to her own texts, and just not respond. 

The so-called 'drug trade' isn't as it's depicted on those high-drama crime programs... well, for the most part. She doesn't communicate with others in the 'ring', if there even is one. Marty does most of the running around, a 'hustler'. In Amethyst's mind, it doesn't really matter if she does her job or not because Marty can probably find someone else to sell shit. 

Everything is pretty mundane as far as her interactions with customers. And honestly it's not a business she's too invested in. And since now she has a lady to please, Amethyst is, for the most part, cleaning up.

Drugs are a great way to make money, but sometimes it's just too risky. She's seen a handful of other dealers get caught with possession-- they pretty much do their time and come back to society to start dealing in sneakier and craftier ways. You can't really stop people from doing what they want. With Amethyst's remaining balance in medical bills, she figures she can get them paid off in no time, but still finds herself dragging her feet to get it done. 

_If only there were a legal way to make enough money to live!_ She tells herself in her own unamused sarcastic way.

Tonight Pearl is busy with the 'skule dance', the one Amethyst probably can't go to since she's banned from the campus. Her thoughts wander to the pink lady mom-friend, which she brushes away immediately since it makes her feel Not So Great. 

On the way back from work, Amethyst grabs Taco Bell. She normally prefers to go into the building, but she sees a handful of people who would recognize her and likely ask for 'some good shit', so she relents with using the drive-thru.

\---

Cunty is more than happy to scarf down any scraps left over from Amethyst's dinner, making some rather unpleasant snarling noises as she does-- she's very serious when it comes to eating unhealthy garbage, just like mama. 

Netflix is on for white noise while she sits with a still-blank notepad, trying to come up with something for a date. Despite her past mistakes, she checks Google again for more suggestions and ended up with bupkus as usual. 

“Lessee time for some CRITICAL THINKING... hmm... Pearl is a ballerina or some shiz, so she isn't going to be like me and be content with just eating a bucket of chicken on the couch until she enters a food coma.” She glances to Cunty for a semblance of an answer and is only greeted with the sight of her licking her own butt. 

“Pearl doesn't seem like the type to eat ass on the first date, but thanks for the input.” 

She sighs, tapping her pen on the notepad. “So she's just opposite of me because she has to stay thin for spinning and prancing, so what wouldn't I eat...?” She questions, immediately thinking of all the food she dislikes. “Small portions. Salads. Anything sans grease and high sodium content...” 

Somewhere fancy, she concludes. But not too fancy, because she doesn't want to seem like she's trying. That'll dismantle her whole aloof and 'idgaf' persona that she's tried so hard to culminate despite Pearl making her feel twice as self-conscious.

She writes 'fancy dinner' on the pad, as well as a few restaurants she knows of for good measure. 

“I will not take her to the movies.” She tells herself while scrolling through what's playing at the theater. The word theater brings her to another idea. THEATER with an E at the end! Theatre! Plays and boring performances while seated in some very uncomfortable stadium seats! Pearl would totally be into that shit. She scribbles it down, underlining the last two letters of Theat're', so she knows what she means upon later review. 

“I'm a fucking genius.” She boasts, looking at local plays on her phone. 

A result from Google 'Top 20 Plays You Have to See Before You Die' catches her eyes. Probably because 'die' is in it. Amethyst taps through the list, giving a brief glance to each synopsis until the word 'torture' grabs her attention. 

“Tosca, huh?” She ponders, giving the description her upmost attention. She is, after all, a gore aficionado. 

“Hohoho-holy shit. Sign me up.” She cackles, bookmarking the page.

Her phone buzzes, which she hopes is Garnet providing suggestions, despite her self-proclaimed success on her own merit.

It's just Marty again. She sighs, opening the Pandora's box of obnoxious prodding and begging. 

The most recent one just has a location and a time, which she recognizes to be a bar she plays at frequently. Hopefully, it's just another music gig and not a ruse to get her to come out and sell. She groans, glancing at her cat calendar; nothing is written down for the day in question, so she yields, replying with a simple 'K'. 

“And then, after dinner and a boring play, I could serenade her under the stars, with my super awesome acoustic guitar, and then I'll appear to have depth and consideration instead of coming off as a narcissistic asshole who craves sex and validation.”

Cunty blinks slowly, conveying exactly what Amethyst believes is an inherent disinterest. She's been fed, which is all that matters. She turns her attention onto Netflix, showing a classic Hetero Romance scene in which an awkward male tries buying coffee for the Drop Dead Gorgeous female for which he, in real life, would have no chance with. 

For a moment, Amethyst entertains the thought of what it would have been like to meet Pearl in more sober circumstances; would she even have the courage to speak to someone like Pearl in a well-lit Starbucks? 

Would Amethyst even frequent a Starbucks in the first place? 

She looks to the ceiling, knowing the answer lies in one of many fics spread around the internet. Perhaps one by a daring author who's reading this right now.

It's hard to understand. Hard to understand how Amethyst could cross paths with someone like Pearl, let alone gain her interest. Maybe she's having an early onset midlife crisis and needs a wild girl like Amethyst in her life. Maybe it's just opportune entertainment. Who knows. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts. 

\---

Amazingly enough, a lot of people have shown up to the dance. Which Peridot makes sure to relentlessly vocalize the credit to Lapis, who designed the fliers that were posted all over campus. Whether it's a desperate attempt to get into Lapis' good graces or a genuine compliment doesn't seem to matter, since all the accolades manage to earn a diminutive smile from the girl in question. Peridot seems relatively more relaxed compared to earlier in the day. 

Rose is absolutely engaged with receiving attention from various residents and non-residents. As expected, she's very popular with everyone, leaving Pearl with some well-deserved quiet time. 

There's a small enclave to the student activity center that holds ping-pong tables and three gaming stations, which remains unlit and void of any loud party-goers. Despite the available food and drink, she nurses a simple cup of water from the drinking fountain, while observing the others from a safe distance. Dancing isn't really her thing unless she's helplessly intoxicated to the point of not giving a fuck about appearances. 

She's not necessarily anti-social... after all, she has to interact with the audience after performances, to which she has no issues with. It's just... well, to be frank, she's preoccupied with thoughts of her date tomorrow. What else is new? 

Pearl is soon aware of another's presence; Peridot. She looks... well, she looks like the human personification of the :| emoji. To be honest. Her hands are folded in her lap, adding to an overall uncomfortable appearance. 

“What's with you?” Pearl questions.

Peridot takes a moment as if considering the question to be worth answering. “What's with me? Nothing. Just enjoying a solitary moment to myself.”

Pearl motions her gaze to the space between them, sectioned only by a small end table between their notably cheap-made polyester chairs. She then turns her gaze to the crowd near the dance area, where she immediately hones in on Lapis, who leans against a wall made entirely of glass as she watches her fellow campus dwellers with a certain condescending stare. The very look on her face begs Pearl to question why she's even here if she's going to be so miserable. 

“Why don't you just ask her over here. She looks bored.” She suggests.

Peridot takes a moment, failing to pretend ignorance to the question. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing.” Responds Pearl, turning her attention to the water in her hands. So fascinating. 

Silence continues, well, as silent as it can be with the music playing. Greg takes the stage now; he plays a few songs every now ad then between DJ's mixes. So far he's only played two slow-dance type performances. Between those, he's been chatting Rose up and putting on an unprecedented presentation of charm. 

Peridot emits a dramatic sigh, to which Pearl pretends not to notice. 

More time passes. 6 minutes to be precise. Pearl glances at her phone. No texts from Amethyst. She looks over to Peridot, who appears to take no shame in expressing her undivided attention to Lapis, who remains leaning against the wall. With arms folded.

“No one is making you stay.” She inters. 

Peridot purses her lips, glancing between Pearl and Lapis. “I know that. I want to be here.”

“Really?” Challenges Pearl. “Okay.”

“I mean. I like watching people.” She clarifies.

'Yeah, watching Lapis' She thinks, eyes lidded with an amused grin. 

“Whats that?” Questions Peridot with pursed lips.

“What's what?”

That little grin. What's funny?”

Pearl's smile only widens when she realizes that Lapis has left her post and is wandering towards them, arms still crossed and looking as bland as ever. 

Peridot follows Pearl's gaze, arriving at the same objective, only her reaction is less than collected. Pearl swears she can hear an 'oh no' under the other's breath. 

“Hey.” Greets the dark skinned girl. 

Pearl gives Peridot a few seconds to respond, but since nothing happens, Pearl comes back with a 'Hi Lapis.' 

“Rose gave me permission to fire up the hearth on the patio. I figured it'd be quieter out there.”

“And colder.” Adds Peridot. 

“Fire is warm.” She returns. Pearl agrees. And it is rather clammy in here with all the students gathering. Crisp cold night air by a fire seems like an indulgence.

Peridot crinkles her brows and squints. “Does the campus allow fires to be tended by students? Where are we going to get the wood?” 

\---

The three of them sit in cold metal chairs as the fire takes off. The dance goes on indoors, to which neither of them feels the slightest bit grieved over. 

“It's only a matter of time until people start taking notice of the fire.” Pearl sighs, holding her hands up to the flames. It feels lovely. And the stars are especially bright tonight. Unfortunately, the only beverage available is the classic punch at the dance; what would be really nice is to have a cup of hot chocolate.

Or a whiskey sour. 

She looks back to the activity center. A large portion of the main room is contoured with a curved wall of windows. You can see everything going on inside. People bouncing and dancing; which looks odd when you can't hear the music. 

It's not hard to spot rose in the crowd-- Greg has finished his performance and the two of them are over near the punch table, engaged in a conversation that Pearl couldn't be less interested in. 

“I hate this time of year” Lapis grumbles. 

A familiar silence pursues. Only to Pearl, it's slightly different when she's observing it between two other people. She wants to say something, but its just too entertaining to watch Peridot. Entertaining... and slightly uncomfortable. 

“Y-yeah, me too. So... cold. And...lame.” Peridot sputters. Pearl resists the urge to rest her face in her palms. 

Lapis either doesn't notice the awkward behavior or doesn't care. “I mean, I wouldn't mind it if it were cold in Fall. Just the cold before Spring is so depressing.” 

Pearl contemplates this. And she agrees. Fall chill is much more enjoyable than the pre-spring variety. 

“Maybe it's because the trees are colorful and not...skeletal.” Says Peridot, looking to the tree nearby. “It's like looking at a human without flesh or muscle. Or personality.” 

Lapis snickers, much to Peridot's gratification.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Pearl yawns, slouching in her chair.. This night has been pretty dull. From her perspective, all she's done today is help her best friend set up for a dance that she wouldn't have gone to on her own. And now she finds herself chaperoning some nerd trying to cozy up to a girl who is too cool for anything. 

That and she has to watch her previous love interest mingle with the Greg.

She berates herself immediately. Greg isn't all that bad. He did, after all, extend a certain kindness. And technically it is because of him that she even has a date tomorrow. A real date. With a hot girl.

“This place sucks.” Says Lapis.

“Agreed.” Chimes Peridot. 

Pearl can't even argue that. But what else does she have to do? Go back to her room and re-organize her bookshelf?

Actually that sounds like a fun idea.

“Let's ditch.”

“But we just got the fire started!” Peridot groans, gesturing both her arms dramatically to the hearth. “All that work and we're just gonna leave?”

“When other students come out here, I'd rather not be surrounded by other people making out and making jokes that aren't funny.”

Pearl, again, agrees. Perhaps she has more in common with Lapis than she would have thought. 

“Then what are we going to do after we leave? Won't Rose be offended?” Asks Peridot.

“Look, we came, we helped set up, we participated. She didn't say we had to find another party goer, hook up and make a plethora of mistakes like the rest of them will. As far as I'm concerned, we're done here. At least I am.” Explains Lapis, hardly expressing any apparent emotion beyond aloofness. 

“Hrrmm.” Peridot's face makes several transitions, a collection of amusing expressions that depict, doubt, curiosity, suspicion and apprehension all in under a few seconds. 

Pearl decides to be charitable, offering a simple suggestion. “Perhaps we could go play... video games?” The suggestion doesn't sound right coming out of her mouth. Probably because she's never really indulged in the activity. 

The suggestion alone is enough to bring some sort of smiles from Lapis. Peridot raises her eyebrows. 

“Anything is better than here. After all, Peridot, you did say you would be chill with letting me borrow your PlayStation, even if it was for watching blu-rays. But I don't feel like lugging it from your room to my room.”

Pearl thinks it through with an unnecessary amount of calculation. She could accompany Lapis to Peridot's room and then ditch a few minutes in with some stupid excuse like being tired. Then she could go to the mall or something and look for something to wear for her date tomorrow. It's a win-win-win. She sets up another lesbian couple and she gets to not be around people for the rest of the night. Perfect.

Peridot's face flickers with hope for a moment but fades into something more mortified. Maybe her room is a mess and she didn't think she'd have guests over. She laughs faintly. “Sure. Yeah. No problem!”

Right on queue, the doors from the activity center open, and obnoxious voices chiming over each other can be heard. The first to stand up is Lapis.

“Great, let's get out of here.”

\---

Her closet is not so much a closet anymore- well, not a proper one. When she first moved in, all her clothes were hung properly on hangers. But now only a few articles still hang; the ones she never wears. The rest of her more-used clothes are actually in a haphazard pile on the floor of the closet, which she sifts through when she needs a change. 

Her eyes dart to the clothes left on the hangers. Dress clothes. Black. She thinks to herself. Where did these clothes come from?

Cunty meanders into the room, curiously sniffing around. 

“Oh, that's right. I wore these to a funeral when my uncle died.” She says flatly. Garnet sits on the bed, watching a show on Amethyst's tablet. 

“I guess this'll do?”

She looks to Garnet for input, who only glances over for a short second without saying anything. 

“Yo G. Yay or nay?” She asks more directly, holding up the black slacks and equally black dress shirt.”

“I'm not sure if wearing funeral clothes to a first date is a good idea.” 

“Well, it's not like she'll KNOW they're from a funeral!”

“Wearing all black to a date might send the wrong message. She'll think you're depressed.” Garnet offers, tapping the screen to start another episode of whatever it is. 

“Or I'll look trim and well-kempt. And not like a slob.”

Garnet shrugs. “You asked what I thought.”

“I wonder what she's gonna' wear.”

“Probably not funeral clothes.” Garnet bounces back. Amethyst grunts.

“I'm not going out to buy a new outfit. I hate trying on clothes. It's never consistent on what size I wear. One brand says this and another brand says that and by the time I find ONE pair of pants that fits me I'm way too irritated to keep shopping.”

Garnet doesn't argue. It's a struggle most curvy women share, herself included. 

“Pearl will probably wear something the counteract what you've seen so far.”

Amethyst squints and frowns. “What..?”

She'll wear something proper, probably. Until now you've only seen her in casual clothes and her work uniform.”

“And naked.” Add Amethyst. Garnet just gives her 'look', and continues. “I'm imagining a soft-pleated circle skirt, with leggings since it'll be cold. And a top to match. A button up, maybe. Something with bright colors because she wants your attention to be on her. But that's just off the top of my head from observing my short encounters with her.”

“You freaky, girl...” Amethyst jests. “But seems accurate enough.” She ponders for a moment-- it's strange to think that someone wants Amethyst to notice them. Someone outside a crowd at a bar. Someone like Pearl. 

“Ugh...I guess I have no choice. I gotta go... clothes shopping.” She grimaces. “But Buck has my car. Are you up for a mall trip?”

Garnet folds the tablet case, conveying her willingness to take a trip. “You're driving.” 

\---

Peridot's apartment is remarkably clean. Whoever her roommate is, is obviously pleasant to live with in regards to cleanliness. 

“Who's your roommate?” Pearl inquires, admiring the cute dish towel hanging on the stove handle. It has cute bird prints on it. 

“Uh, I don't... I mean my roommate had to drop out because of an illness. She left me with most of the kitchen items. We got along pretty well. It's depressing, though.” She explains, looking to the same towel. 

“I'm moving in with you, then.” Jokes Lapis. “At least your apartment is clean and isn't littered with Monster cans, Mountain Dew bottles, Taco Bell wrappers and mysterious stains...” 

Peridot chirps, losing her grip on her keycard which would let her into her bedroom. 

“Ugh, my old roommate was just like that... she has this hideous habit of not washing dishes and resorting to paper plates until I washed her silverware...” She shutters, still haunted by the smells.

“Well, we can play in my room or I can move the...system to the living room.” She sweats, finding it somehow risque to play it in her bedroom. 

“Putting it out here will just be extra work.” Lapis points out. She peers over Peridot's shoulder and sees the efficient set up of her bedroom. The TV is mounted on the wall, and the cords of each system are carefully gathered and neatly held together by a toilet paper tube. A shelf is mounted under the TV, which holds an impressive amount of game systems. She did well making the room spacious, considering how small the rooms are. 

The typical bean bag chair rests under the computer desk, probably pulled out on special occasions given how unused the fabric looks. 

“We should have made off with the left over pizza.” Lapis groans, yanking the bean bag chair out and making herself comfortable. She clearly has no issue with formalities despite having just made Peridot's acquaintance today. She grazes through the game titles on the wall. Lots of first person shooters. 

Peridot slinked away, looking through her freezer, probably because of Lapis' indication of hunger. Pearl looks between them and smiles. Even if the crush isn't fulfilled, it's nice to see them spending time with other people. 

Pearl almost feels like a fly on the wall. Well, a fly on the wall who nudges Peridot to make a move. 

Oh right, she's supposed to flee soon so she can go to the mall. 

“Oh uh.” Pearl looks down at her phone. “I should get going. I have a thing. At the mall.”

Peridot cracks her head around. “You're ditching me?! What am I supposed to do?!” She asks, trying to keep her voice down so not to alert the Lazuli girl. 

“You're doing fine! Besides, I don't play games.”

“Then whY DID YOU SUGGEST???” Shrieks Peridot, bending her knees in disbelief. She's pretty silly with her gestures. 

“Because I figured you could bond and make friends with someone who also likes games and wizard movies?”

“Hnnngggghhh... I'm not good at one on one conversations! It's too personal. I suppose I can fake an illness and forget this who charade ever happened.”

“Nothing has even happened yet.” Laughs Pearl. She sees the whiteboard on the fridge, which has nothing written on it Must have been used to communicate with her now-gone roommate. So she uncaps the marker and scribbles down her phone number. “If you run out of things to say, just text me and I'll try to help?”

“All of this is so stupid. You don't know me and you don't know the Lazuli. And now you're offering to be some kind of-- ”

“Hey. We bonded over a mutual disdain for public events. We made paper chains together. I think we're all friends now.” She grins, placing the marker back. “Besides, I have a date tomorrow with a girl and I have nothing to wear.”

“The mall is awfully far away just to be getting a dumb outfit.” Peridot grumbles.

“All you have are first person shooters and the Sims. You're one of those boring gamers, aren't you?” Lapis says suddenly. She came out of the room. She looks to Pearl. “You're going to the mall? That sounds fun.”

Pearl is equally surprised by her sudden appearance. She's awfully quiet. 

“Yeah, I'm going. I think Rose won't mind if I came back early in the morning to help clean up from the dance, so I'll probably be late coming back.” She explains, glancing at her watch. 

“Count me in.” 

“What?” Pearl and Peridot both say in unison.

“Well, Peridot. No offense... those games are dumb. Let's go with Pearl. Then we can go buy games that aren't lame.”

“None taken.” She says, clearly offended. 

Pearl, not particularly against having tag-alongs, wonders if Rose might take it the wrong way for the three of them to be rebelling and ditching the dance like this, but decides that Rose is probably too wrapped up in Greg to even notice. 

“Well, it's alright with me I guess. I just have to get my keys from my room...” 

Peridot moves to close her bedroom door; a weird gesture considering she doesn't have a roommate. And soon they're out the door, no sooner than when they entered. 

“By the way, not ALL first person shooters are the same...” Peridot tries. 

Lapis waves a hand in dismissal and laughs. “Sure they aren't.”


End file.
